Never Give Up
by TheMoonFlower318
Summary: Post-Brisingr: Eragon and Saphira are still struggling in their fight against the king. That is, until they receive word that Galbatorix is ferrying the green egg across the land to find its rider. Saphira and Eragon are sent to capture the egg, but things don't exactly go as planned... Warning: Eragon is tortured. EDIT: I revised the early chapters so it's all a bit better now
1. The Mission

Eragon sucked in a large breath of the cool morning air and smiled. He was standing balanced on the largest branch of a tall pine tree, peacefully observing the world around him. In the distance, the city of Feinster was visible, as well as the leagues of wilderness surrounding it. Lazy rays of sunlight bathed the scene in warm yellow light and a gentle wind ruffled the leaves of the many trees in the area. It was the perfect moment, in Eragon's eyes, and his mood lifted from calm to joyful.

_Saphira! _He called with his mind, _Shall we go flying together?_

She did not take long to answer. _That depends. Did you want to ride in the saddle or in my claws?_

And then, before he even had time to blink, his glorious sapphire colored dragon performed a spear-like nose dive dove out of the clouds, appearing in his line of sight. Knowing instinctively where he was, she automatically angled her dive towards his tree and with alarming speed she was upon him. At the last split second, right at the cusp of taking him and the tree down or halting her dive, Saphira snapped her wings back and stopped the descent. Eragon didn't have even a fraction of a second's time to process the impressiveness of her actions, for as soon as the fall was ended, Saphira already had her paw extended towards him to swipe him off his perch. He was as helpless as a mouse in the mouth of a cat as soon as her grip encircled him. Without hesitation, the dragoness maneuvered away from the tree and flew off with him safely clutched in gigantic blue paw.

Eragon sighed and shook his head in bemusement, an indignant grin upon his lips. _Ha__ Ha, very funny Saphira. Now put me on the saddle already! _He commanded, trying to hold on to whatever pride he had left.

She rumbled her unusual laugh and complied, but not after flipping upside down and doing a couple corkscrews in the air.

_Was that really necessary? _A very dizzy Eragon demanded, chuckling.

_Of course it was._

And then they were off, rider and dragon, flying through the skies above Feinster. Eragon whooped with glee, while Saphira let loose an enormous blast of blue fire from her fearsome jaws. It seemed all was right in the world, but reality never fails to catch up to even the most happy of beings.

_Saphira_? Eragon asked his partner after a brief time of quiet flight.

_Yes, little one? _

_What are we going to do without Oromis and Glaedr? _He hopelessly asked, eyebrows furrowed. He could go for quite a while without thinking of them, and feeling almost content, but thoughts of their deaths inevitably came back to haunt him sooner or later.

Saphira twisted her neck around to look at him, and then to the saddle bag that held the dormant eldunari at his side. They had tried several times to get the ancient dragon's attention some time after the battle, but to no avail. Glaedr was too deep in his sorrow to acknowledge them. Heaving a sigh, she returned her eyes to her rider.

_I'm not sure Eragon, _She replied mournfully, _But I do know that we must never give up until that snake-tongued oath-breaker is destroyed. I will tear him limb from limb for what he did to our masters through Murtagh and Thorn. He will pay, _She growled.

Frowning, he looked down. I_ agree. I just hope Glaedr will awaken soon from his grief. We need him._

_Give him time, little one. _

Eragon nodded and then leaned back in the saddle to watch the clouds, melancholy in his thoughts.

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Eragon paced in Nasuada's pavilion, pondering what was said. She had called him in to tell him that her spies in Uru'baen had some important information for her. They said that Galbatorix is wary that more rider pairs had survived the fall like Oromis and Glaedr, so he's even more intent on the green egg hatching. Apparently, from the spies' message, Murtagh and Thorn are in Dras Leona, trying to find the green egg's rider.

"This is indeed momentous news, my lady." He said, astounded. "If you wish, Saphira and I could leave within the hour and be at Dras Leona in two days to capture the egg. It should be relatively easy for us, for there will not be as heavy security in Dras Leona as there would be in Uru'baen. Saphira is a better flyer than Thorn as well, so it should not be too much trouble to outrun them" He contemplated, rubbing his chin.

"Yes, that is exactly my plan." She nodded. "But you have to keep in mind that this is a stealth mission, Eragon. I do not want you to be seen, nor for your to have any use of your sword at all. Use magic to make yourself invisible and when people are lined up to touch the egg, take it. I trust you can accomplish this task with minimal bloodshed?" Nasuada asked.

"Of course. We will do as you command, my lady." Eragon replied. Saphira nodded her consent with the plan as well.

"Good. Off you go then, but be _careful_ Eragon. I do not want you to be hurt." She almost commanded him, her dark brown eyes looking at him seriously. After a pause she added more softly, "Now safe travels, my vassal."

Touched at her concern for his welfare, Eragon twisted his hand over his sternum and bowed. He left the pavilion.

Once outside, he turned to his dragon and grinned.

_Are you ready to capture the green egg Saphira? _He asked eagerly on his way back to his tent.

_Yes, although this mission is on extremely short notice._ She harrumphed, distaste foremost in her mind. _Nasuada's plans usually aren't like this-so easily formed and rapidly carried out. It gives me an uneasy feeling in my bones._

_Oh you be quiet, you old worry-wart! _He laughed at her. _We'll be fine. Everything will work out. I promise._

Eyeing him, Saphira paused and then finally nodded. _Fine. We should hasten our speed then. We are tarrying. H__urry up and get your supplies so we can be off! _She replied impatiently, puffing a cloud of smoke from her nostrils.

He grinned and patted her on the cheek. _Yes, yes I know. But first I wish to ask Arya if she'd like to accompany us. _

_Good idea, I would enjoy having green-eyes-black-hair-she-elf by our side. Now go! _Saphira answered, nudging him with her snout in the direction of Arya's tent.

Eragon chuckled, and then ran across camp to Arya, his Elvin speed surprising those on his way. He arrived at her tent within two minutes of his departure from Nasuada's pavilion and knocked on the pole. He was anxious to see her, for they had not talked since the battle several days ago.

"Arya, may I talk to you for a moment?" he called out excitedly.

Seconds later, the tent flap was opened revealing a slightly annoyed Arya, her beautiful green eyes flashing.

"Yes, Shadeslayer?" she inquired curtly.

Unperturbed at her irritation of being disturbed, he quickly and quietly told her of what transpired in his meeting with Nasuada.

"Would you like to come with us?" Eragon asked, his brown eyes hopeful.

Arya sighed, and her face hardened into an emotion Eragon couldn't decipher.

"Are you asking this of me in order to spend more time with me because you cannot control your childish infatuation? If that is the case, then no, Eragon I will not come with you." She said harshly.

Eragon froze, his animated smile breaking off his lips. Utter shock and hurt bounced around in his mind as he comprehended her words.

_How could possibly she think that_? He asked himself numbly.

The answer never presented itself. Eyes hardening, he recollected his thoughts.

"No. You are mistaken, Arya." He said coldly. "I ask you this only out of friendship, for both Saphira and I care for you and wish to have you at our side as a friend and fighting companion. Is it so wrong to want another person to watch our backs? I am _not_ pressing my suit with you by asking this." He gave a hollow, humorless laugh. "In fact, I made an oath to myself, you, and Oromis a long time ago that I would not pursue you anymore. I'm sorry that you think I'm so very childish, for wishing to have someone who I thought was my friend by my side in this endeavor. I guess I misunderstood that you returned my feelings of friendship." He finished, his voice cold and unfeeling.

With that, he strode away angrily, but not before he noticed the look of guilt and shame flood into Arya's eyes. She called after him, but Eragon ignored her and returned to Saphira. Later, it would occur to him that he had caught Arya in a very bad mood indeed to have said what she said.

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Saphira snarled in surprise and anger as Eragon relayed his memory of his confrontation with Arya to her. They had just set out for their destination, and Saphira asked why Arya was not coming.

_Emerald-eyes must have not been right in the mind to insult you in that way. Haven't you proven to her that you are a good friend, and that you have given up your pursuit of her? I am ashamed of her actions._

_And I'm hurt that she would think of me that way. _Eragon added, dejectedly. His heart felt like it had been trampled on by a horse, and every breath he took was laced with distress at Arya's accusations.

_Oh little one,_ Saphira sighed, feeling his hurt. I_ know you are upset, because I am too, but do not let this encounter ruin your regard of her. We both know that she is most likely torn up about the deaths of our masters, and not in her right mind after the fight with Varaug. _

_I guess you are right. _Eragon admitted. _ But why do you think she hugged me after I announced Oromis and Glaedr's demise? _

_For support, I suppose. News of the demises of two friends had just reached her ears. Naturally an embrace would help steady a two legged after such a horrible revelation, correct? _

Eragon pursed his lips. _Correct. But-_

_But nothing. And as for her actions today, I__ personally think that she is confused about her feelings for you, so she wanted to reassert herself as only a friend. You caught her in a bad mood so she reasserted herself rather badly. _

The blue rider froze, shocked.

_You-you think she is confused about her feelings for me? I don't understand..._

Saphira shook her head sharply.

_That's beyond the point. Never mind I said anything. What I'm trying to say is to not be too put out with green-eyes right now. Forgive and forget, little one. When we return all will be well._

_I suppose you're correct. Like always. _He said in resignation.

_And when am I not? _She answered playfully. _Well let's just put it out of our minds for right now little one. We have a mission to complete. _Saphira said.

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The next afternoon, Eragon and Saphira were resting in their makeshift camp. Saphira had flown on through the rest of the day and into the night before starting to get tired the next morning. She flew for a few more hours until Eragon finally convinced her to stop and sleep. He did this not only for his dragon's wellbeing, but for the want to time their arrival at Dras Leona perfectly so they would begin the mission by night and leave at night.

After several hours of resting, the duo set out again. It was almost sunset by that time, so they knew the next time they stopped, it would be outside Dras Leona.

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Eragon waited in the shadows, silently observing the city. A gigantic wall provided a barrier from the city and its surroundings, proving to be a formidable obstacle in his path. The gates were closed for the night, so he could not use magic to make himself invisible and just sneak in. A different approach was necessary. Around twenty guards dotted the top of the wall, acting as sentries for the city. It would be difficult to get past them, Eragon concluded. But he wasn't worried. He had a plan.

_Saphira now! _He called to her with his mind.

At his words, Saphira crawled out from her hiding place in the woods close to the city and blasted a torrent of fire onto a gigantic pile of brush and dry wood that Eragon had created a little under half a mile away. Her flames did their job well, and made a blazing inferno that the guards on the wall could easily see from their vantage point.

As Eragon expected, the fire was quite a surprise for the guards, and they all gathered together to confer about what it was, why it was there, and what they should do about it. Eragon smiled as he saw that they were no longer thinking about their duties looking out for intruders, but trying to decide if the fire was a threat to the city.

_Indeed it is, _Eragon thought wryly as the huge fire steadily ate up the prairie grass in front of the city. He regretted killing so much wildlife with the flames, but it was necessary. Soon, the fire would be so close to the walls that the guards would have to do something about it, or face the consequences.

While the guards were distracted and bickering amongst themselves, Eragon started the long trek of climbing the city's walls. It would be a nasty climb but he was confident he could accomplish it with his heightened Elvin abilities. Hand over hand, the blue rider dutifully scaled the vast amount of bricks above him.

Several minutes later, Eragon was safe upon the top of the walls and the fire was dangerously close to the city entrance. He saw that half of the guards had departed to inform everyone of the fire, or to put it out. The other guards stayed where they were before and looked down, helplessly.

_Saphira, the plan is working perfectly! _He said to his partner with glee. _Now I am going to go look for the egg. I will be back soon._

_Alright, but be careful Eragon! If you don't come back soon I will tear apart all of Dras Leona to find you. _Saphira warned, and Eragon knew it was no empty threat.

Unseen, Eragon quickly and quietly went to the other side of the wall and jumped onto the roof of a house on the inside of the city. From there, he jumped off the roof and into an alleyway, startling a skinny cat hunting a mouse. He was successfully inside the city.

Eragon reached his mind out carefully to a random passerby in the street. The man was not trained in the ways of minds, so he did not notice Eragon's presence. Then, Eragon flipped through the man's memories until he found the one he wanted. The location of the egg.

It ended up that the man had a son that desperately wanted to become a dragon rider, so the man brought him to center of Dras Leona where the egg was. The egg did not hatch so the man and his son returned home.

With this information in mind, Eragon set off to the direction of the center of the city, carefully avoiding being noticed. When he arrived there he stood hidden in the shadows of an alley way and observed the situation.

Thorn lay in the center of the square, his wine red scales glittering in the torchlight. Murtagh was beside him, but on a wooden platform, and he was holding the green egg. In front of him was a surprisingly long line, even though the sun had set. Eragon gave a small grin and began to work.

Fifteen minutes later, the blue rider had joined the line of people waiting, but in disguise. He changed his hair color to blonde, softened his Elvin features into human ones, and changed his eye color to blue with magic.

_I look like a whole new person. _He said to himself with a grin.

After what seemed like forever, Eragon finally got to the front of the line. He bowed his head respectfully to Murtagh, as any normal peasant-boy would do to a person as powerful as him. And then the moment he had been waiting for finally came as Murtagh handed him the magnificent emerald egg. As he held it, in the back of his mind he noticed that it was roughly the same size as Saphira's had been, and that it glistened just like hers had too. Then, he acted.

Rapidly, before Murtagh or Thorn could even process his intent, he drew upon his reserves and spoke the spell of invisibility while back flipping off the platform and into the street. Thankfully, he landed on his feet and sped off to the direction of the gates of the city. Thorn roared in surprise and rage, while Murtagh jumped on his back. Thorn jumped into the air and they fruitlessly searched the streets for Eragon.

Meanwhile, Eragon had ran until he got in range to talk to Saphira. Calling out to her, he explained what was going on and what he needed her to do. With an annoyed growl, she stubbornly complied, but not before telling him he was a risk-taking idiot and it was a wonder he wasn't dead by now. Eragon smiled at that.

By that time Murtagh had told the police and guards of the city that there was a thief on the loose and to try and find them. The emergency horn was blown and soon the whole city was in a frenzy to find Eragon. A few times he almost felt Murtagh's searching mind upon his own but before he could be found out he shrunk his consciousness back out of the way of the enemy rider's. His heart beating wildly at his luck he hurried on.

A few minutes later he sprinted into the alley that he had jumped into at the start of this whole mess, and lunged onto the roof. There, he released the invisibility spell so Saphira could find him. He was not disappointed. Only seconds later, Saphira dove out of the clouds, much to Thorn's helpless fury, and extended one enormous paw for Eragon. She picked him up in a fluid motion and put him on her saddle. Then, she jumped into the air and sped out of Dras Leona with Thorn in hot pursuit.

Eragon laughed in triumph as Thorn could barely keep up. Saphira had incredible flying talent that Thorn could not match. But he did have more bulk, and with that, strength, so Eragon warned Saphira to be careful. She responded to him with a preoccupied flick of her thoughts, and he knew better than to say anything else to distract her.

Several minutes of chase later, Thorn finally realized he could not catch her and finally gave up. He hovered in midair and roared so loudly and furiously that Eragon shivered despite himself. Then, he heard Murtagh speak.

"Do not think you have won, _brother! _Thorn and I will be back to regain the egg, and we _will_ succeed." He thundered, voice magically amplified.

"As if we'll let _that _happen," Eragon said sarcastically and Saphira harrumphed in agreement.

With shaking hands, the blue rider reached into one of the saddle bag and took out a hunk of bread. He gobbled it up eagerly as well as delved into the energy in Beloth the Wise, trying his best to replenish the strength lost with the mission.

Saphira made a tsk sound in the back of her throat.

_You expended a large amount of energy in that mission, Eragon. _She said sternly. _You could have gotten hurt, or worse. That was dangerous._

_But necessary. _He argued. _It was all that invisibility spell, anyway. _

_Humph. I still dislike the idea of you going places alone, even if that particular mission was a success. My scales were itching with worry the entire time you were gone._

_I'm sorry Saph. I'm safe now, however. And so is the green egg._

The blue dragoness twisted her neck around so her head was facing Eragon and the egg. She nuzzled him and looked adoringly at the egg.

_It is. Good work little one. _She said, humming deep within her chest.

_And you, beautiful queen of the skies_, He responded, stroking her scaly cheek.

Thus the journey back to the Varden began.


	2. The Capture

Eragon stared up at the vast array of stars above him, drinking in their beauty and pondering who would be the next rider for the green egg. After several minutes he realized he truly had no idea, as it could be anyone. For all he knew, the destined rider was in the Empire. He fervently hoped that was not the case, because then all his and Saphira's hard work in capturing the egg would've been for nothing.

_Well, not for nothing. _He argued with himself. _Even if the destined rider is in the Empire, the green egg would still be out of Galbatorix's hands, therefore causing less misery._

Satisfied with the conclusion he had come to, he settled further into the grass and relaxed._  
_

So far, their travel back to the Varden was uneventful, besides scrying Nasuada to inform her of their success. Murtagh and Thorn had not shown up since Eragon and Saphira had last seen them outside Dras Leona, but they were still taking turns watching at night in case the red pair were to sneak up on them.

That is what Eragon was doing at that moment, besides looking up at the stars. He stretched his mind in all directions every few minutes, making sure that they were alone.

Eragon's thoughts kept winding back to Murtagh. He didn't know quite what to make of him. They had been close friends once, and had saved each other's lives. Then Murtagh was captured and became a rider. The enemy rider. He had caused Eragon so much pain it was hard for the blue rider to think of him as a friend anymore. Especially when Oromis and Glaedr were killed. Tears filled Eragon's eyes as he thought of the ancient pair's last moments. The agony and utter misery Glaedr had felt when Oromis died was horrifying to even think about. The very thought of something like that happening to Saphira made his stomach twist uncomfortably. He decided then that Murtagh and Thorn would_ pay _for their mistake of killing his beloved masters. He would make them pay. Somehow.

After a few hours, Eragon could barely keep his eyes open anymore. He woke Saphira and they switched positions keeping an eye out for danger.

Relaxing, Eragon laid back against Saphira's paw and slipped into his waking dreams.

Eragon awoke to Saphira sharply prodding him awake with her nose.

_Wake Eragon! They have found us! _She exclaimed.

He shot up into standing position and took note of his surroundings. It was almost morning, and several birds were starting to wake up already and forage for food. But that is not what captured his attention. It was the sight of Thorn's glittering red mass speeding towards them from a distance that was much too close.

Quickly, he scrambled up Saphira's side and into the saddle. After he was set she burst into the sky and tried her hardest to gain some distance between them and Thorn. But she was too late, for Thorn was almost upon them.

_We must fight them Eragon. We have Glaedr's heart of hearts with us so we can draw upon his strength if we need to, _Saphira stated grimly.

_Aye. Let us teach them to fear our names! _Eragon replied menacingly.

With that said, she twisted around to meet their enemy.

The two dragons clashed together in a boom as loud as thunder. The impact almost sent Eragon flying into Saphira's neck spike, but he caught himself at the last second. Then, the fiery dance between two of the most fearsome beasts in all of Alagaesia began.

Saphira grappled with Thorn, grating her sharp claws against his scales, but neither could gain the upper hand. Thorn tried to use his superior bulk to wrangle her into submission, but failed for Saphira kept twisting out of his crushing grip.

Eventually Saphira gave up and disengaged. She back flipped away Thorn and when she was upside down she propelled herself underneath him. When she righted herself she was directly behind and above him in such a way that she had the advantage.

Roaring in success she dove onto him and snaked her head onto his, clamping her jaws around his neck. Growling in pain, Thorn twisted around futilely trying to escape her clutches. Before Saphira could decide if she wanted to kill him or not, Murtagh blasted her away from them with a mumbled word in the ancient language, displaying the vast amount of strength he had at his disposal. Although Saphira wasn't able to end the fight like she wanted, she still inflicted a terrible wound to Thorn's neck before being thrown away.

Bleeding profusely, Thorn lunged after Saphira, but she managed to evade him. In the process she turned her body around and whipped her tail at the red dragon. Her sharp, ivory spikes connected with their target and plunged themselves deep into his side.

Now thoroughly enraged and pain-driven, Thorn roared again and blasted a fire ball in Saphira's direction. Her wards protected her, but she couldn't get away from the blinding light the fire brought with it. Closing her eyes momentarily, she didn't see Thorn extend a large, red paw and hit her in the face, drawing blood. Snarling, she retaliated and the two dragons wrestled once again.

Meanwhile, through all of this, Eragon was desperately attempting to get Glaedr's attention.

_Ebrithil! Please listen! Saphira and I are fighting Murtagh and Thorn and we need your help! Master please…_

Receiving barely a flicker of acknowledgment from the grief stricken gold dragon, Eragon realized he needed to try a different approach.

_Master I'm begging you, please help us. Do you wish to spend all the rest of your life trapped in here knowing you failed your students and all of Alagaesia simply because you cannot get over your own sadness? Oromis would be ashamed of you. Please, we need your help! _

Finally, Eragon got a response. Glaedr heard this and gave the mental equivalent of a fearsome roar. His powerful, ancient consciousness lunged towards him, quick as a cat whose tail was stepped on, and grabbed him. The raging dragon swept past Eragon's defenses painfully and was crushing him in retaliation.

_Hatchling! Remember that who you are speaking to! _The gold dragon growled angrily, his pride hurt.

_I'm sorry Master, but I needed you to awaken. Will you help us? _

_Yes, I will. _Glaedr grumbled, still furious at Eragon's words .

_Master? _Eragon asked after a moment, his voice small.

_What, child? _He answered impatiently.

_I missed you._

Glaedr immediately softened, his fury forgotten. Eragon could feel affection coming from the old dragon, and some regret at being so harsh. Then they both turned to the battle between Saphira and Thorn, knowing any further words were needless.

After several long minutes of hitting, being hit, chasing, and being chased, Thorn and Saphira were quite exhausted. Their tails drooped, their wounds pained them, and their tongues lolled out of their mouths.

_Little one I cannot keep this up much longer, _Saphira announced to Eragon.

_It's no matter, Glaedr is here to keep you going for as long as you need to._

Saphira brightened, and tiredly flicked a greeting to Glaedr's consciousness. Though it was brief it got the message across and the older dragon understood.

_Saphira, land so I can heal your wounds. Then I will face Murtagh on the ground, while you fight Thorn again with strength from Glaedr-elda. _Eragon said.

She complied, and soon they were flying towards the ground, Thorn following.

The two dragons hit the ground 30 feet away from one another, each giving the other dirty looks and vicious growls. Murtagh and Eragon ignored each other for the time being, knowing their partners needed to be healed before anything else could be done.

After both the riders healed their respective dragons, the dragons flew off into the sky once again. They resumed their fight while their riders circled each other on the ground.

Eragon drew Brisingr and eyed Murtagh. His half brother seemd just as strong as ever, his well defined muscles bulging from underneath his tan skin. Cold, piercing blue eyes glared viciously into the blue rider's, a sneering grin residing just below them. He held Zar'roc confidently at his side, the wine-red sword glittering devilishly in the light of the day. He wore no armor, and for that Eragon was grateful. He didn't wish for any unfair advantages in this fight. He already could tell that this upcoming match would be one to decide who truly was the better warrior. He told himself that it was him. He would win. He was well rested and had the power of Glaedr behind him so he was confident he could succeed in the battle that was inevitably going to come.

"Eragon. Don't be a fool. We both know I will run you into the ground so why don't you just surrender the egg right now? It will save us both a lot of trouble." His half-brother said, his voice sickly sweet.

"Never!" Eragon growled, "Not after what you did to our masters. And we will not willingly let you destroy this innocent hatchling's life, or his rider's."

Then, before Murtagh could respond, he leapt at him and slashed at his torso, quick as an elf. Murtagh parried, and the death match between the two brothers began.

Eragon and Murtagh were evenly matched, and no matter how hard they both tried, they could not subdue the other. Their swords ripped against one another in a terrifying display of power and finesse, doing their wielders bidding. Two of the most proficient swordsmen in all of Alagaesia fought there on that field that day proving their worth. It wasn't just a fight over the egg-it was a grudge match. It seemed that neither would ever tire, but after a long while, Eragon finally landed a blow on Murtagh's shoulder.

It was obvious this wound was very painful, for every time Murtagh went to move Zar'roc, he winced and more blood would flow from the cut.

Eragon smiled grimly at his success, but it was short lived, for Murtagh managed to slip past his defenses and slice open Eragon's thigh. He gasped as the stinging pain reached his brain, and then slammed the hilt of Brisingr into Murtagh's forehead. Dazed, Murtagh stumbled away while Eragon tried to regain his breath. After a tense moment, the two brothers jumped towards each other again, and their clash resumed.

To Eragon, the next several minutes passed very slowly. He and Murtagh fought ceaselessly against each other, refusing to give up. It seemed that when one brother would land a blow, their victory would be interrupted to be cut open a moment later. This pattern repeated and would only stop when one of them admitted defeat.

Eragon vowed to himself that it wouldn't be him, that he would _make_ Murtagh give up. And so with this belief in mind, Eragon finally gave Murtagh a crippling blow that sent him to his knees, dropping Zar'roc. Without missing a beat, Eragon tackled him and the brothers wrestled with each other, their blood and sweat mixing.

Using a burst of energy from Glaedr, Eragon pinned his brother to the ground and raised Brisingr to give the killing blow. But like Saphira had hesitated in ripping Thorn's neck open before, Eragon hesitated in ending his brother's life. He looked deep into Murtagh's pained eyes, and he just couldn't bring himself to bring his blade down.

Good memories with Murtagh flashed before his eyes. He was his friend, his half brother. How could he kill him? It wasn't as if Murtagh had willingly chosen his fate.

But then remembered all the atrocious things Murtagh had done and he knew he had to do it. He had to bring Brisingr down. He had to be the man that pledged himself to the Varden, not the man that was Murtagh's friend. He had to do what was right.

"I'm sorry Murtagh." Eragon whispered, tears flooding his eyes. And then he brought the blade down, straight for his half brother's heart.

But his faithful sword never met its destination, for when Eragon hesitated in that fateful second, Murtagh quickly wrenched his arm away from Eragon's grip, took the dagger from his half brother's belt and stabbed it deep into his abdomen.

Eragon froze as the cold metal plunged into his body, astonished. The pain came right after, burning into him, making him gasp. Distantly, he heard Saphira's roar of pain and terror as she felt what had happened, as well as Glaedr's shock. But Eragon did not care. All he could notice was the sight of his own hunting knife stuck inside his belly, and the blinding pain that threatened to send him under into blackness.

Then Eragon collapsed, slumping off of Murtagh and onto the cold, unforgiving ground. He stared listlessly up at the sky, gasping for air, as Murtagh came to his feet and looked down at him. Then Murtagh laughed the most chilling laugh Eragon had ever heard.

"You're weak. Did your beloved masters coddle you so much that you couldn't even give the killing blow in time? You disgust me." He said snidely.

Eragon's fury ignited at this, and a renewed vigor entered him. He knew what he had to do. Ignoring Murtagh, he called out painfully to Saphira, who was desperately flying to his aid.

"Saphira! Leave me! Save the egg, save yourself! You are far more important than me." He yelled to her before his half brother could clamp his hand over his mouth.

_NO! Little one, no! I cannot leave you. _Her tortured voice answered back.

Struggling against the pain and Murtagh's strength, Eragon ripped his brother's arm away from his face and called out to her one last time.

"Go! You must!" He choked. "It's the only way-" His air circulation was suddenly cut off by Murtagh's forearm and he could say no more.

After a short pause, Saphira replied, her voice dejected but unceasingly determined as well.

_I will come back for you. No matter what, I will save you. _

Then with one last heart-broken look, she switched directions, twisted out of Thorn's path to follow her, and flew away as fast as she could. Thorn, Murtagh and her little one were left far behind her within seconds.

Knowing his duty was complete, Eragon succumbed to the bone-bending agony of his wounds, and stared unflinchingly into the beyond furious eyes of his brother above him.

"You will pay for that, _Shadeslayer._" Murtagh growled as Thorn landed beside him. The last Eragon remembered was a fist flying towards his face, a startling pain in his head, and then all was black.


	3. The Mournful Return

The sweet-cool-refreshing-white-puff-clouds hid Saphira well on her way back to the Varden. It was a beautiful day, and the sun warmed her back nicely, but Saphira didn't care. All she could think about was Eragon.

Oh, her little one. Her selfless, persistent, kind little one. Saphira ached for him, but knew she couldn't go back. Shame and sadness filled her as she thought of last moments with him, as she thought of how she wasn't able to save him.

_It's all my fault, _She thought despairingly, _He had fought so hard, but I failed him. _

Of course she had tried. Oh, had she tried! As soon as she felt that blade sink into his belly she flung herself off of Thorn and sped to her rider as fast as her wings could take her. But she wasn't quick enough.

Eragon had told her to leave, and though her entire being itched to stay, she could not ignore the logic of his words. The look of resignation and defeat in his eyes filled her thoughts. The way his voice trembled with effort and pain when calling out to her haunted her.

She had told him she would come back for him, no matter what, and she knew it was no idle promise. She _would _save him. Someday, somehow, she would rescue her rider. She would _not _fail him again.

Then Saphira turned around, ignored Thorn with his clumsy attempts at catching her, and flew away as quickly as she could. She pushed herself to the limits of her abilities, and then even farther. She flew so rapidly that to an observer on the ground she probably looked like a blur. She hadn't known she could even fly that fast, but she didn't dwell on it. All she cared about was obeying Eragon's last request.

After several hours of distressed and mournful flying, she could not ignore her exhaustion or her wounds any longer. She landed in a clearing in the middle of the woods and lay down, utterly spent.

Only after slowing her breathing and finally accepting Eragon's situation as well as her own, did she notice Glaedr pushing against her mental barriers. She opened her mind to him.

_Saphira! I have been trying to contact you for hours, but your grief created an impenetrable wall in your mind. Remember your sense, youngling! _

_But he is gone, Master! They are taking him to Uru'baen as we speak. Soon they will torture him and make him a name-slave. Oh master I failed him! _Saphira exclaimed hopelessly.

_I know how you feel right now, hatchling, but you mustn't let that cloud your judgment. We both know you did not fail him. But you _will_ fail him if you get off of the ground and stop wallowing in your despair. Eragon is strong, he can survive this. You can too, no matter how hard it seems. I know this from experience. Now resume your journey to the Varden, Saphira. I will be here to help you._

Saphira let out a heavy sigh, laced with a distressed whine. _Thank you Ebrithil._

With that said, Glaedr supplied her with a steady stream of energy to bring herself to her feet and forget her pain. Then she lifted her wings and burst back into the sky, ready to fulfill her little one's last wish.

Two days later, Saphira, Glaedr, and the egg finally arrived back at Feinster. The Varden cheered raucously as they saw her return. Saphira knew they wouldn't be cheering for long though. They would find out about Eragon soon enough.

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Nasuada smiled as she saw the beautiful blue dragon fly over the gates of Feinster and enter the city. She was standing with the other leaders of the Varden, awaiting Saphira's return. As Saphira drew closer though, her smile faded. At once, Nasuada knew something was very wrong.

Saphira looked…bad. Her whole body drooped with an emotion Nasuada deduced as sadness and complete exhaustion. Nasuada saw many wounds dotting her body, with blood streaming off in rivulets. It seemed that Saphira could collapse at any moment. Lastly, Nasuada's eyes traveled to her saddle. It was empty.

Nasuada froze, shocked. Eragon had just scryed her yesterday! What could've happened? Her stomach plummeted as she entertained the terrible possibilities.

She numbly noticed that the Varden's cheering ceased as they also saw that something was not right.

After a horrible moment, Nasuada finally regained herself. She ordered the men nearest her to clear a space for Saphira to land. By the time Saphira reached the ground, the soldiers had dispersed and only she remained, along with Arya, Nar Garzhvog, Orrin, Orik, Roran, Jormundur, Angela, and the elves. They were Eragon's closest friends as well as important members of the Varden.

As soon as Saphira touched the ground, she collapsed. The elves rushed to her aid and immediately started healing her ghastly wounds.

"Saphira! What happened?" Nasuada called. Arya and Orik echoed her statement.

The great sapphire dragon tiredly reached her consciousness towards those present. Even in great pain and with little to no energy at all, Nasuada was awed at the power and nobility of Saphira's mind.

She poured her memories into everyone's heads.

Nasuada saw through Saphira's eyes as she dove from the clouds and picked Eragon up from the roof of a Dras Leona building with the egg..

She witnessed the duo's journey back to the Varden, and felt Saphira's adrenaline rush as she spotted Thorn coming towards them. She saw the fight progress, she saw Saphira put Eragon on the ground to fight Murtagh, she felt Saphira's relief as Eragon healed some of her wounds, and saw her jump into the air to fight Thorn once more.

Distantly, Nasuada could understand what was going on in the battle between Murtagh and Eragon, for even though Saphira was concentrating on her own fight, she could still feel her rider's actions.

Nasuada saw as Eragon gained the upper hand with Murtagh, but also felt his resolve at killing him. Then, she heard him say "I'm sorry, Murtagh.", and bring the blade down. She gasped as witnessed Murtagh plunge Eragon's own dagger into his abdomen before Brisingr could meet its destination, and felt Saphira's shock and pain.

She saw as Saphira desperately fled to Eragon's aid, only to be sent away by him. Nasuada teared up despite herself when she felt the tormenting emotions Saphira was going through at the time.

Lastly, Saphira showed them the sorrowful return journey, and then retreated from their minds.

Nasuada shuddered as the blue dragon's grief stricken presence left her consciousness. The pain and sadness Saphira felt at what happened was almost crippling.

"I'm so sorry Saphira." Nasuada stated, at loss of any other words to say.

The others repeated her sentiment, and Nasuada could tell they were as upset as she was, especially Arya. It was odd. Arya seemed almost…guilty.

_We must save him! They will torture him most terribly and he will become a name-slave! _Saphira cried.

Arya spoke up.

"I agree with Saphira. Eragon must be rescued as soon as possible. I can accompany Saphira to save him." She stated.

"And where would you happen to find him, Arya?" Nasuada challenged. "He could be anywhere in Alagaesia by now, but most likely Uru'baen. Are you prepared to storm Uru'baen, Arya? You are not. No one is at this moment. We must go on with our war plans, but without Eragon. It is the only way. Eragon will have to hold out against whatever pain Galbatorix throws at him until we win over the city where he is going to be held."

Arya glared at Nasuada, but after a moment she looked down in resignation as she saw the logic in her words.

"Lady Nasuada is right. Eragon will have to wait, no matter how hard it is for him, or us. I am not too worried. My cousin is strong, and he won't let a little thing like pain reduce him to surrendering to the twisted king." Roran said, trying to be confident. Deep down, he was terrified for Eragon, but he wasn't about to admit it to anyone.

After several more minutes of talking about what they were going to do without Eragon and pondering which city Murtagh would bring him to, Nasuada finally decided to tell the rest of the Varden what happened. She knew they would be devastated, but she also knew she could bring their spirits up by telling them about the success of capturing the green egg.


	4. Sarissa

Eragon dimly came to awareness, wincing at the various aches and pains of his body. He felt something cold and heavy on his wrists and ankles. Groaning, he opened his eyes and sat up on his elbows.

A hazy night sky was there to greet him, with a half moon peeking through the clouds. He looked around, confused. Where was he again? His thoughts were slow, his mind sluggish. His eyes surveyed his body, and he what he saw made his stomach twist. He was in shackles, and his sword was nowhere to be seen.

Scared now, he reached out towards Saphira, but he couldn't feel her at all. He called upon his magic, but nothing happened.

_Oh no…What _happened _last night? _He thought.

He looked to his surroundings and was confronted by a small campfire, a sleeping figure, and something very large and red…

_Thorn! _He screamed within his mind, and then all the events of the previous day came crashing back.

Eragon remembered capturing the green egg, the fight with Murtagh and Thorn, the defeat, the wound, sending Saphira away. Everything.

Distantly, he heard a deep, grating and rumbling noise. Dragon laughter. Thorn was laughing at him!

_Is there a problem, human? Do you not recall the happenings of yesterday?_ A voice said in his head, filled with snide amusement.

In awe at hearing the crimson dragon's voice for the first time, but also indignant, Eragon replied.

_I do actually. _He said.

_If you say so. _Thorn snorted.

Eragon resumed his survey of his surroundings and saw that they were in a clearing, which was surrounded by tall, evergreen trees. The sleeping figure, who Eragon now knew to be Murtagh, was lying next to his dragon across the campfire, oblivious to the world. Thorn, he gathered, was keeping watch.

Forcing himself into sitting position, and in the process realizing that his wounds had been healed, Eragon looked towards Thorn once more.

_Where are we? How long have I been unconscious? Where are we going? What are you going to do with me? _Eragon said quickly, his curiosity overflowing.

_Well it seems Murtagh was right, you _do _ask an incredible amount of questions. _Thorn snorted.

_Answer me! _Eragon snarled, impatient.

_Calm down already, or I will "accidently" step on you. Do not presume that I won't. For in reality, who is stopping me? Your beloved Saphira? She is nowhere to be seen. You are the helpless prisoner and I am the powerful dragon. Remember who the superior being is here, human. _The crimson dragon threatened.

Humbled, Eragon nodded.

_I'm sorry. Please answer me? _He asked in a smaller voice.

_That's better. _The vermilion dragon paused, and kneaded his claws in the ground. _We are a day's flight away from Dras-Leona. Murtagh has kept you unconscious for a bit over twelve hours. We are on our way to a secret location that I will not divulge the information of. And concerning your request at being let go, I will say…No. _Thorn gave a dragon's equivalent of a smile, showing his giant teeth.

Unperturbed, Eragon continued.

_Don't you want to escape Galbatorix's clutches and change your true name? Don't you want to live life as a free dragon for once, and not just some king's puppet? Don't be a coward! _

A ripping growl resounded through the camp and Thorn rapidly stood up from his resting position on the ground by Murtagh. He thrust his head forward, a bit over the campfire. The light from the flames cast a devilish glow upon the young dragon's head and Eragon shivered involuntarily at the sight.

They stared each other down, and not a sound was heard except for the crackling of the fire and Murtagh's soft breathing. In a small part of his mind, Eragon was surprised that Murtagh did not wake up at the great ruckus Thorn was making.

After a moment, Thorn's taut muscles relaxed, and he retracted his head

_I see the truth in your words, human. But I cannot. We have orders, and I must obey them. _

_Why? Just let me wander off. Or maybe you can fall asleep and I can escape. _That's_ not disobeying, is it?_

_You do not understand. The twisted-black-tongued-traitor-king is smarter than that. He has given us orders that we were to capture you, the green egg, and Saphira at any costs, to not let you escape, and to bring you back to Uru-baen. Since Saphira and the green egg got away, I suppose that we will make do with just you. Now enough questions. _With that being said, the red dragon withdrew from Eragon's mind and settled back down to his place by Murtagh.

Eragon looked down at the ground, pondering his terrible situation. There seemed to be no way out of this. He just had to wait until he was rescued, if ever. He fervently hoped that the Varden would not risk everything just to save him though.

_I can hold out. _He told himself. _I can resist torture, and Galbatorix. I will_. _I must. I will not fail Saphira, or the Varden. _

Then the blue rider laid back down and went to sleep, trying very hard to not think about what was awaiting him at their destination.

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Murtagh awoke the next morning, feeling refreshed after his fight with his brother the previous day.

Standing, he took note of the camp. Thorn was curled up behind him, breathing deeply in slumber. Eragon was sleeping right where he left him, his chains still intact.

Although Murtagh didn't show it, and certainly didn't act it, he truly loved his brother deep down. He felt awful for the events of the day before, and having to capture him. Murtagh knew all too well what was waiting for the blue rider outside of Dras-Leona. The poor boy stood no chance.

Sighing, Murtagh prodded Thorn awake and started towards Eragon. He muttered a spell over the boy to keep him asleep, and then dragged him towards his dragon.

"Morning Thorn." The red rider greeted.

_Good morning, small one. _Thorn replied lovingly, stretching like a cat.

Murtagh saddled him, and then proceeded to rid the clearing of any evidence of their stay there. He didn't want a certain blue dragoness to find them, or find any place that they were.

When Murtagh was satisfied with his work, he mounted Thorn. The red dragon raised his wings and reached one large paw towards the blue rider, grabbing him and securing him within his claws. And then they were off, ready to fulfill the dark king's orders.

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Cold. A bitter cold. That's the only thing Eragon's mind could comprehend when he came to awareness. He opened his eyes, and was confronted with a dark and dirty cell. Looking down, he saw that he wore no shirt, so the evidence of his numerous battle wounds was visible. The stab wound from Murtagh on his abdomen was healed, but a large scar was in its place. He sat up from his position on the horrid looking floor, wincing at his various aches and pains.

"Uunngh…" he groaned.

He desperately tried to called out to Saphira in his mind, although he knew it was futile. She was nowhere in the vicinity. He also knew he was drugged, for magic was escaping him. He was helpless.

_What am I going to do now? _He thought to himself. _I'm alone in a cell, with no sword, and no magic. I do not even know where I am. _He looked down at his fingers. _At least I still have Aren._

His legs restless, Eragon stood and started pacing. Once, he tried to open the door to his cell, just in case. Of course it was locked, but he still tried.

_You always have to try. _He said to himself.

Eventually, after what seemed like hours, Eragon finally heard footsteps. He deduced that there were five people by the sound. He readied himself as the door opened.

Four guards entered, and behind them, a woman. But no ordinary woman. The most beautiful and terrifying woman Eragon had ever seen.

Her hair was a dark, wavy, black. She was very tan, and her figure incredible. Her eyes were the same color as her hair. The menace in them was enough to make a lesser man tremble, but Eragon held firm. He kept his emotions wiped off his face.

"Why hello, Shadeslayer. How are you this beautiful morning?" The woman said in a sickly-sweet tone that sent shivers up Eragon's spine.

He ignored her. "Who are you?" he asked coldly.

"Oh, there will be a time for questions later, don't you worry."

She took a step forward.

"My, my you _are_ a handsome one aren't you?" she purred, taking another step towards him.

Eragon glared at her. He decided he hated her already.

The woman started circling him, taking in his appearance. Eragon felt like a horse being looked at by a potential buyer.

She halted her steps. "Guards!" The woman suddenly barked. "Chain him. I have something I need to attend to." She left the room.

It was then that Eragon acted.

The four guards started towards him, chains in their hands, but Eragon was not worried. He could handle this.

Quickly, before any of the men even had time to brace themselves, Eragon took them out, one by one. They stood no chance against the might of someone with Elvin strength and speed.

Eragon pushed the first man into the second man, and they fell to the ground together, their weapons clanging. The third guard jabbed his sword at Eragon's torso. He quickly sidestepped it and chopped his hand down on the back of the man's head, knocking him out. Eragon was then close enough to the fourth man to rip the spear from his hands and snap it into two.

He took one of those halves and hit the guard on the head with it so hard that he collapsed to the ground, instantly unconscious.

The first and second guards had returned to their feet by then, and they faced Eragon once again.

They creeped towards the blue rider together, wary of his power.

Eragon grinned, and thrust the half of the spear into the first guards face, breaking his nose. The man fell back, bleeding profusely, and he scurried out of the room, moaning for help. But Eragon was not worrying about that, for he was swiftly knocking out the terrified second guard.

Chuckling at the woman's stupidity for thinking that four human guards could subdue him, he walked out the door of his cell, ready to take on the rest of the guards of the building.

_This is too easy. _He thought to himself, smiling. _I can't believe they think I am so weak as to not be able to handle _four_ guards. I am a dragon rider for goodness sake!_

He continued walking down the corridor, and as he rounded the corner, he was confronted with about ten guards, waiting for him.

Sighing, Eragon took them all out. When he was done, he was surrounded by unconscious bodies. He shook his head in disgust at his bitter work, and walked further down the hall way.

He froze when he heard _her _voice.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here. I turn my back for three minutes, and already you have incapacitated fifteen of my men, without magic or a legitimate weapon. I'm impressed to say the least, Eragon. But I doubt you can defeat me."

He slowly turned, and saw the woman standing there, accompanied by another group of guards. He knew from his experiences with Arya never to underestimate a woman, but he was still confident he could take her.

If only he knew how wrong he was.

The woman walked towards him and gave him a bone-chilling smile.

"Shall we begin?" She asked sweetly. And before Eragon even had time shift into a battle stance, she whipped her hand at his face, slapping him.

The force of it brought the rider stumbling backwards several steps. Eragon could taste blood, and it only enraged him more.

He retaliated, and kicked towards her legs, intending to send her to the floor, but he was too slow. The woman sidestepped the blow, and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards her. When he was close enough she grabbed his other hand and put them behind his back harshly.

Eragon's eyes widened. How could she be this fast? He was like a toy to her, every movement was too slow.

They were eye to eye for a split second, and then the woman whispered a word in the ancient language, a word that Eragon would never forget.

"_Leipskari." Pain._

Every thought in Eragon's head vanished. The only thing left was the pain. The dreadful, bone-shattering pain. If felt as if he was being torn limb from limb, being burned alive, having all of his bones broken, being whipped a thousand times—all in the same moment.

He screamed as he had never screamed before. The seizures he once had because of his back were nothing compared to this.

He collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony.

Distantly, as if it was coming through a long tunnel, Eragon heard laughter. And then…the pain stopped.

Breathing hard, Eragon slumped in relief. The pain was gone.

"Awww, is poor little Eragon hurt? Is the small, weaponless witch too much for the fearsome warrior?" The woman said.

"Shut UP!" Eragon cried. He lunged towards her from his position on the ground, but sorely missed. She had sidestepped him once again, and now her foot was flying towards his stomach. It connected with a loud crack as some of his ribs snapped.

Eragon gasped and clutched his torso. She had beaten him.

"Guards. Put his chains on and bring him to The Room. I don't think he will put up much of a fight _this_ time." The woman snickered.

Eragon heard her leave the corridor, and on the way out say, "Oh Eragon, by the way, my name is Sarissa. I just thought you would like to know the name of the woman who kicked your ass."

Her vicious laugh echoed throughout the hallway, and Eragon groaned.

_What am I going to do?_ He asked himself hopelessly.

.


	5. The Scrying Mirror

"Saphira! Saphira, wake up!" a voice said, interrupting the blue dragoness from her dreams.

Saphira ignored the voice, instead choosing to curl her front lip into a snarl, baring her large fangs. She hoped that would chase the stupid two legged away, but they had other plans.

A piercing spear of thought sailed into dragoness' mind, momentarily breaking her shield. Angry now, Saphira growled and repaired her wall, finally deciding to open her eyes.

_Who dares to disturb _me, _the mightiest dragon in all of Alagaesia? _Saphira thundered. She pushed her head forward from the ground and prepared to teach that someone a lesson.

She stopped short when she realized it was Arya.

_Oh. What do you want, she-elf?_

"I bring important news from Nasuada. She said it concerns Eragon." Arya replied in her musical voice. She was breathing slightly faster than usual, and Saphira concluded that it was either from urgency or excitement. Maybe a bit of both.

Eyes bright with hope, Saphira leapt up from the ground and shook herself off.

_Eragon? My Eragon? Where is he? What has dark-skinned-Night-Stalker learned?_ She hurriedly asked.

"I know not. But we will find out soon enough. Now come, let us go to the pavilion."

Without further words, Saphira jumped into the sky, buffeting air onto Arya with her wings. The dragoness sped towards to Nasuada's location, leaving the elf in the dust.

A minute later, for she had flown in quite haste, Saphira arrived at the pavilion. Quickly, she ducked her head through the flap in the side, which was specially made for her.

Nasuada was sitting at the front of the tent at her desk, facing something behind it. Orik, Roran, Blohdgarm, Angela, Jormundur, King Orrin, and even Nar Garzthvog stood around her, facing the same direction she was.

When she arrived, everyone present flicked their eyes to her and then back to the object. From what Saphira could see, they were very distressed.

Curious, Saphira extended her head further to see what it was.

A large mirror was leaning against the pole of the tent, and in it, a dark room. Very puzzled, the blue dragoness mentally called out to Orik as to inquire what in the world was going on.

_Eragon's captor has scryed us. _The dwarf grimly answered.

Saphira froze, shocked.

_Where is he now? _She asked, trying to keep the boiling emotions in her head from pouring into the dwarf's.

_I do not know. That is all I was told._

It felt as if Saphira's heart was on fire. Her anger at the situation, and her desperation for her little one had overwhelmed her already, and the conversation had not even started yet.

Arya entered the tent, and looked around, confused.

"What is going on here, Nasuada?" the she-elf asked, her voice full of suspicion.

"The woman who has captured Eragon has scryed us."

Arya gasped, but before she had time to answer, a figure arrived in the room portrayed on the mirror.

The figure came into the light, and revealed itself to be a woman. A woman that made Saphira's scales itch, a woman that made her yearn to find Eragon, wherever he was, and cover him with her wings to make sure he would be safe.

The blue dragoness hissed, utterly disgusted with the creature before her.

"Ah, it seems that the whole party is here now." The woman said. Her voice unsettled Saphira greatly, and by the looks of it, everyone else too. "My name is Sarissa, and I am Galbatorix's right hand. I do the more..._bloody_…acts of persuasion on the prisoners for him." She smiled evilly.

Nasuada glared at her in disgust.

"Where is Eragon? And how did you know I had a scrying mirror here?"

Sarissa gave an icy laugh.

"Oh, a while back I tortured the information out of a member of the Varden that was captured and sent to me. And don't worry about Eragon, he's safe here with me."

A growl slipped through Saphira's teeth as she thrust her head in front of the mirror. She bared her fangs, and let loose a small jet of flame, staring down Sarissa.

Sarissa rolled her eyes.

"Ah, yes, the dragon. What a pitiful beast you are."

Saphira ignored this, and continued to attempt to kill the heinous witch with her eyes.

"I hope you don't mind if I…touch…your rider, do you?" Sarissa grinned.

Saphira's muscles bunched forward. Her killing instinct was coursing through her veins at that moment, and she wanted nothing more than to give that woman the most painful, and gruesome death possible. How _dare_ she touch her little one!

Growl after growl slipped through her teeth, and her vision started to tint red with her anger.

Eventually, she heard the warnings and shouts to calm down. She snapped out of it and looked down. She was ripping the fabric of the tent in her outrage.

"Saphira, enough!" Nasuada yelled.

Sarissa snickered once again.

Nasuada waited until Saphira's breathing calmed somewhat before speaking.

"Why did you contact us anyway? That is not usually something a captor would do."

"Well, I wouldn't want to be inconsiderate, now would I? I'm sure you guys would like to know what was going on, instead of just being kept in the dark on where Eragon was, if he was alive, and who is torturer was." The witch simpered.

"I don't believe you." Roran spoke up, a dangerous look in his brown eyes.

"Maybe you shouldn't. Maybe I'm lying. Maybe the only reason I'm contacting you right now is because I love rubbing in the fact that I have your last hope and you can do nothing about it." Sarissa's black eyes glimmered darkly.

"You monstrous bitch—!" Orik screamed out, but was interrupted by a bloody guard that burst into the room on Sarissa's end.

"Mistress…" he moaned, "The rider, he's not cooperating!"

A savage look came to the woman's face.

"Then I will just have to go make him cooperate then won't I?" she said eagerly. "Excuse me for a moment." She told her audience through the mirror, and then she left the room.

The man stood there awkwardly for a moment, looking at those in the mirror, and then rushed back through the door, obviously disturbed.

"This Sarissa woman. She is no good. She is the spawn of the devil." Nar Garzhvog stated in his deep, gruff voice.

"I agree. We must send the army to wherever this woman is and force her into submission. We must have our weapon, errr, I mean Eragon, back!" Orrin said.

"From the looks of it, Eragon is giving them a hard time." Angela added.

"Yes, that's my foster brother for ya, always puttin' up a good ol' fight! Atta boy. You give those bastards hell!" Orik burst out, his beard quivering in his anger.

"Perhaps we should-" Jormundur began.

Suddenly, interrupting Jormundur mid-speech, Saphira stiffened, her eyes wide.

Everyone in the tent looked at her with concern.

"Are you okay, Saphira?" Arya asked worriedly.

The blue dragoness gave long, distressed whine, ignoring the elf. Excruciating pain was flowing from the bond she had with Eragon. Though her rider was very far away, and their link was almost non-existent, they still shared the smallest of bonds between them. It made it so Saphira could tell if Eragon was alive, and feel his strongest emotions, and vice versa. Their bond ran deep. No matter how far the distance between them, there was always a tiny part of their other half inside them that could tell how the other was.

And right now, Eragon was feeling the worst agony of his life.

It made her _furious._

When the pain finally stopped, Saphira growled and shook her head as if trying to shake off the horror she felt.

_Sarissa has hurt Eragon most terribly. I can feel it through our bond. Oh, my poor little one!_ Saphira cried, thrashing her tail outside the tent.

The two-leggeds all stared at her, their faces dropping in dismay. All of them cared for Eragon. The thought of him being hurt irked them.

"I cannot believe that this woman has hurt him so easily. He's a dragon rider, for Guntera's sake!" Orik exclaimed.

"Indeed." Arya agreed. "She must have abilities beyond that of an elf. I wouldn't be surprised if Galbatorix heightened her senses with magic. Saphira, can you feel anything else?"

_No. I can feel nothing but the strongest of emotions._

Nasuada put her head in her hands. The others did similar acts of distress.

They all jumped as Sarissa's voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Sorry about that. I had to teach a certain rider a lesson on who is the boss around here. You know how prisoners get sometimes…" The witch said, rolling her eyes.

Everyone glared at her, refusing to answer. Saphira, however did release a puff of smoke in her fury.

Voices down the hallway on Sarissa's end broke the silence. Chains jingled, and then a multitude of figures entered the door.

Eragon was one of them, and he didn't look very good. He was shirtless, and a fine sheen of sweat coated his body as he was dragged by his entourage of guards. His short brown hair was disheveled, and his lip dripped blood. A bruise was starting to form on his ribs, which seemed to be broken.

On further inspection, his numerous scars were visible, giving evidence to his battle with Murtagh.

As soon as her rider entered the room, Saphira's heart leapt. Extending her neck further into the room, she stroked his image on the mirror, keening softly.

He lifted his head at the sound, and when he saw his dragon he lost all composure.

"Saphira!" He shouted, and he struggled against his guards as to get closer to her depiction on the glass.

When they stopped him, he punched the nearest one in the face with his bound hands, and ducked as the man faltered and then retaliated. He attempted to push the guards who were now surrounding him away with his shoulders, but more filed into the room, and he was overtaken. A couple pinned him to the wall, and the guard who he had punched approached him, an enraged expression on his face. The man wound back his fist and hit Eragon so hard in the nose that when he removed his fist a split second later, the blood was already flowing.

A solid crack resounded through the room, and Eragon's gasp of pain was heard along with it. Blood gushed through his nostrils like a river down a mountain.

Saphira hissed in frustration, anger and sympathy. Her rider looked towards the mirror at the sound. She had backed up a bit, allowing the others to see what was going on, and she knew she looked ready to kill someone. Her mouth was open and there was fire in her eyes.

_Eragon... _She whispered in her mind, wishing he could hear her but knowing he could not.

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Eragon shuddered against the men holding him and tried to ignore the gushing of his nose. He examined the tent shown in the scrying mirror to see Arya, his Elvin guards, Orik, Roran, Nasuada, Orrin, Angela, Jormundur and Nar Garzhvog. They were all staring at him, their eyes wide, sympathy evident in their gazes.

Before he could even think to say a greeting to them, or ask what was going on, Sarissa entered his field of view.

Quietly, so only he could hear, she whispered to him, "Shadeslayer, I thought you would have learned your lesson by now. Do. Not. Misbehave. Or you will face the consequences. Oh, and by the way, if you so much as peep _one_ word while I'm finishing up this meeting with your friends, I will make sure you don't say another ever again." She threatened. Eragon glared back at her defiantly, but made a point of closing his mouth.

"Good boy." She grinned, and then raised her voice to her men. "Guards, chain him to the post." The woman ordered, pointing to a hunk of metal shaped like an upside down L in the back of the room. "I wish to begin our session soon, once I am finished with this _delightful_ little chat I'm having with the Varden."

She faced those in the mirror again as the guards did as she asked. Eragon glared at her back and plotted.

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Saphira suppressed a hiss as she saw Sarissa having a talk in private with her rider. A fresh wave of anger ripped through her. That witch had no right to be anywhere even close to her Eragon, nor talking to him. The blue dragoness' gut twisted.

"See everyone? Your poor little Eragon is okay. Well, at least _close _to okay. But he won't be for long." Sarissa grinned evilly. "He has given Galbatorix much anguish with his shenanigans, so the king wants me to give him a bit of punishment before he's sent off to the citadel."

"You will not get away with this." Nasuada answered, "We will find you and make you pay."

Saphira, whose eyes never left Eragon's, growled in agreement.

"Ah, but the thing is, you won't find me. I could be anywhere in Alagaesia for all you know." Sarissa replied.

Saphira saw Eragon's eyes light up at this. She knew him well enough to see that he was planning something, but he didn't want anyone to know. He closed his eyes, and Saphira waited for something to happen.

Suddenly, interrupting Nasuada's reply, he burst out, "Six miles east of Uru-baen, in the woods!"

Sarissa whipped around, fast as a bullet, and advanced towards Eragon like a bull.

"You fool! I warned you!" She slapped him across the face for the second time that day, reopening his cut on his lip.

He just smiled. "Well it seems you haven't been training your soldiers well enough in the art of shielding their minds."

Screeching in fury she picked up a dark object from the floor and flung it at the mirror, breaking it and ending the scrying spell.

The Varden members were left facing a blank piece of glass, with only their reflections staring back at them.

"Well, that was interesting." Angela said, breaking the silence. Though she tried to keep her normal goofy façade up, Saphira could tell it was slipping. The curly haired witch was just as shell-shocked as everyone else.

"I worry for Eragon." Arya stated simply, surprising everyone with the heart-felt emotion in her voice. "Sarissa will torture him almost to the brink of insanity. Imagine what she is doing to him as we speak for giving us his location."

Nasuada shivered. "Yes, Arya is right. And she will most likely leave to a different location very soon. We must intercept them quickly. It is a great sacrifice he has made, speaking up like that. Sarissa will make his life very difficult." She paused as Saphira froze once again, just like before.

_It has begun. _Saphira told the group.

The great blue dragoness bowed her head, wanting nothing more than to find her little one and end his suffering.

She decided she would make this Sarissa woman _pay_, and it wouldn't be a pretty sight.


	6. Resisting

**Authors Note:**

**Hey everyone. I'd like to thank you all before I start. All this positive feedback I've been getting has really inspired me to continue with this story. A particular thank you goes out to my current reviewers, **_**xpig-in-the-skyx**__**, **__**Elemental Dragon Slayer**__**, **__**artemisia81**__**,**__**uriascastrosevee**__**, **__**asmodann**_, **and** _**GoldenShade**_. **You guys are great. Here's an imaginary cookie for your awesomeness, and the next chapter :) **

Sarissa sighed, lowering the whip. The rider had finally passed out from the pain of the well over fifty lashes he received. The witch had wondered when he would give up, for her arm was getting tired. No prisoner of hers had ever lasted that long, not even Murtagh, and she had to say that she was impressed at the boy's fortitude.

She had decided to have one torture session with him before moving to another hide out. She knew she had to hurry. Inconveniently, the Varden were probably already on their way.

She relished in the challenge of breaking him, of hearing his screams become more and more hopeless. She had not wrecked his spirit yet, but she knew that with time, he would fall to her might.

Daydreaming of the next tortures she would administer, Sarissa absent-mindedly picked up the bucket of ice water from the floor and splashed it in Eragon's unconscious, yet still handsome, face.

_What a good looking boy. _The woman thought to herself, stroking his well-defined ab muscles. _Too bad he won't stay this way for long…_

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Eragon spluttered and coughed as he came to awareness. Sarissa must have thrown a bucket of water on him for passing out in their "session".

Blinking water out of his eyes, the rider glared at his torturer while trying his hardest to forget the pain of his open whip wounds.

"Wakey, wakey, little rider." Sarissa crooned, running her hands down his torso.

He _despised_ how she treated him like he was her property, her pet. It always made him feel violated.

Despite the unbreakable chains securing him to the whipping post, and the agony of bleeding cuts on his back, Eragon gathered himself to fight back in any way he could. The horrible woman had not conquered his will yet, and he didn't plan on letting her any time soon.

He spit in her face, taking pleasure in her disgusted reaction. The too-sweet smile on her face became strained, and her lips lifted into a snarl. She dug her nails into his skin, drawing blood.

"Now, now Eragon, is that really how you should treat your mistress?" Sarissa asked sternly.

"You're…not… my…mistress!" he grunted. The effort it took him to form those simple words astounded him.

"Oh, stop fighting the inevitable, Shadeslayer." She replied.

Dizzy now, the rider didn't deign to respond. His breaths started coming out in short, shallow gasps as the pain of his wounds caught up with him. The world seemed to tilt around him, and it took all his willpower not to cry out.

He had to stay strong, for Saphira. For Arya. For the Varden. For everyone.

_Help is on the way. _The boy promised himself. _They know my location, they'll come rescue me._

He tried to concentrate on anything but what was coming, for he knew that Sarissa would not stop with just the whipping. Instead of focusing on watching her meticulously heat up the iron rods across the room, he filled his mind with thoughts of his beautiful azure dragon.

He imagined that he was curled up by the campfire with her, and it was just the two of them. They had no responsibilities, and no one needed something from them. All was peaceful, and they could enjoy each other's presence in solitude.

His longing for Saphira overwhelmed him as the gaping hole within his heart and his mind that existed as soon as they had parted widened considerably. It felt as if a part of his soul was ripped away from him.

The sound of Sarissa's psychotic laughter reached Eragon's ears and snapped him out of his musings. She approached him with the now white-hot rods, smiling evilly.

"Don't come near me." Eragon warned, his voice hoarse. He jerked back in his chains as she ignored him and came closer.

He felt so vulnerable—his arms were shackled above his head to the pole and his ankles were cuffed together on the ground. He could do nothing, especially in his weakened and pain-stricken state.

As if in slow motion, Eragon watched one of the rods descend towards his stomach. The metal touched skin.

The first thing his mind comprehended was the noise, and then the smell, of his flesh being burned off. The pain arrived right after, boggling his brain with the enormity of it all.

He couldn't help himself, he let loose a scream. Angry at himself for losing his composure so quickly, Eragon clenched his teeth. He squirmed, desperately trying to escape the scorching iron's touch.

Unshed tears flooded his eyes, but he refused to beg for mercy. He would not be weak. He would stand up to this monster.

It seemed as if it would never be over, but eventually the witch lifted the rod. Eragon slumped in relief, and looked down. A stripe of blackened skin stretched from one side of his abdomen to the other. Numb in more ways than one, he lifted his head and blankly stared ahead.

He tried to separate himself from the agony of it all, the freezing-burning throb that was traveling up his body.

Eragon braced himself for another bout of pain, observing as the woman positioned another rod above his arm. This one was different, it was a brand instead of a stick of metal. In a small part of his mind the boy wondered what the letters on the brand spelled, but the thought was quickly banished as the searing metal met his skin.

He cried out in pain and tried to flinch away from the contact, but the metal remained connected to his arm. Utterly helpless, the only thing Eragon could do was try his hardest not to scream as he had before.

Within about fifteen seconds of putting it on, Sarissa removed the brand and admired her work. The words _PROPERTY OF SARISSA_ were burned into the top of his arm. Placing her hand over the wound, she voiced a spell that would prevent the rider from ever getting rid of the scar.

"Now you'll be mine forever." The witch said creepily, her eyes full of perverse delight.

"No. You're wrong. The Varden are coming to rescue me as we speak." Eragon asserted, his voice strained.

"What are you talking about, honey? They have no idea where you are. You're alone. No one is coming for you. You're mine."

"NO!" He yelled. "We just spoke yesterday! You scryed them-and-and-I told them where we were! I did, they're coming for me!"

"I'm sorry sweetie. I think you are hallucinating. There was no conversation yesterday. All we had was two of our sessions. And besides, even if the Varden _did_ know your location, they still wouldn't come for you. The only one who cares for you is Saphira. You're just a weapon to the rest of them."

"No…it can't be! They care for me! You're wrong…" He cried, desperately rethinking over the previous day's events and his time at the Varden. He _did _have friends, didn't he? He had Arya, and Nasuada, and Angela, and Orik…but maybe their friendships were all for show. Maybe they were just nice to him because he was a rider. And maybe that conversation really didn't happen… Oh god, what if he was going crazy?

Disturbed, and with his mind cloudy with pain, Eragon could only stare at her as she caressed his face. Confusion rushed through his brain, and he found himself second-guessing all of his recent memories. Was it possible that all the torture she gave him yesterday caused him to imagine everything that had happened?

Lost in his thoughts, the rider didn't notice as Sarissa grinned at him and pulled something out of her belt.

"Awww Eragon don't worry, you'll always have a friend in ME!" The woman said. On the last word her voice spiked up as she stabbed a knife into his thigh.

He gasped in surprise, the cold metal shocking him as it plunged deep into his leg. His breath hitched into a strangled hiccup, and tears came to his eyes.

Sarissa's malevolent laughter reached his ears once again. She seemed to love laughing at his suffering.

The stab wound stunned him out of the delusions that Sarissa planted in his mind.

_She's doing this on purpose. _He told himself. _She's trying to mess with my brain so I'm easier to break. I can't listen to her. I must stay strong._

With a new conviction, he opened his mouth to call her something that Garrow had told him never to say in front of a lady, but he was interrupted by her voice, saying the one word he already hated most in this world.

"_Leipskari." _She said with a casual grin.

Pure agony coursed through the rider's body, obeying its namesake that was voiced in the Ancient Language.

Howling just as he did in the confrontation in the hallway, Eragon nearly passed out from the pain. His muscles frantically tried to propel his body away from the horrendous woman, but there was no escaping the magic. All thoughts of keeping his screams under control fled his mind as the spell relentlessly burned its way through his body.

After what seemed like eternity to the blue rider, Sarissa finally ended the spell.

All was quiet in the room, except for Eragon's rapid breathing.

"There. Now _that's_ a good dose of pain for a day, isn't it? You'll be a slave to me in no time. And then I'll send you to dear Galbatorix, so he can use you to put out this damned rebellion. What horrid creatures those Varden people are. Repulsive."

"You BITCH! Each member of the Varden is twice the person you'll EVER be!"

"Keep telling yourself that, little boy, keep telling yourself that. And don't even get me started on that _dragon_ of yours. What a beast! She should be kept on a leash for goodness sake."

"NEVER!" Eragon roared, jerking against his chains, forgetting his wounds in his fury.

Sarissa only laughed.

"If only I could have my way with her. I'd beat some sense into her."

Eragon stiffened, the thought of this wretched woman touching his beloved dragoness making his blood boil. He looked her straight in the eyes, his gaze unyielding.

"You will _never_ touch her as long as I am alive." He said, his voice deadly calm. A fire burned in his eyes, striking what he hoped was fear into Sarissa's.

"Then I will just have to take care of that 'alive' part, won't I?"

"You wouldn't kill me. Galbatorix would have your head."

"Hm. You never know…When I'm finished with you here, and you are sent to Uru'baen, he could get sick of your stupid face trouncing around the castle and he just might give me permission to do whatever I want with you." The witch's eyes glowed with amusement at the thought of having her way with the boy. She liked the young ones.

"You disgust me. I really wonder how you live with yourself." Eragon sneered.

Something snapped in Sarissa's eyes. "Do you really want to know how I live with myself, Shadeslayer? How I do it?" Her voice took on a crazed tone. "When I was but a little girl a horrid man kidnapped me and made me his slave in all parts of life. When I finally escaped three years later, I vowed revenge. I learned dark magic, things that would make those pretty little elves cringe in their forest. Galbatorix noticed my talents and took me in, training me further. Now I am his special torture master. Ha! If only he knew how much I _love _watching men who think they are more powerful than me writhe in agony at my feet."

Eragon's mouth dropped open, speechless. He could almost sympathize with the woman. It astounded him. He felt like he should say he was sorry, or something, but then thoughts of her touching Saphira entered his mind and the sentiment disappeared. She was a monster, nothing more. Arya was manipulated by Durza just as Sarissa was by that man and Arya was not going crazy. Sarissa's actions were not justified.

"That is no excuse-" he began, but he stopped short when he saw the witch approaching him with a knife suddenly in her hands.

"Stop talking, RIGHT NOW! You do not know how it was!" She hollered.

Realizing he pushed her too far, Eragon smiled, loving the fact that he could cause her this much discomfort.

_This is the only way I can fight back. _The boy told himself. _I will drive her to insanity. If she's not already there, anyway. _

"Oh, is poor Sarissa _angry_ at the little rider? Was the Shadeslayer too _mean_?" Eragon continued.

Sarissa growled, furious. She advanced towards the rider, her fists clenched around the knife and her teeth bared.

"Shut. Up." She repeated.

"Make me." He replied, grinning once more.

His smile disappeared as Sarissa's body became rigid and she froze. She wiped the demented expression off her face, and Eragon saw that she recognized what he was trying to do. Slowly, she dropped the knife, and picked up one of the now-cooling-down iron rods. She approached him, a deadly look on her face.

"You'll pay for your comments, rider. Do not think you can undermine me with your silly words." She said simply, and swung the rod into his face.

The metal connected with his jaw with a solid thump, and then a loud crack echoed throughout the dark room.

Eragon yelped, and the motion brought even more pain to him. Dimly, he realized that his jaw was broken. Mind-boggling agony flooded his awareness, and weird lights filled his vision. The last thing Eragon remembered before he completely lost consciousness was Sarissa's voice.

"There. Try to talk _now_ Shadeslayer!"

And then all was black.

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When Murtagh first heard from Galbatorix that Sarissa had to move to a different location, he immediately knew something went wrong, and that it was Eragon's fault. It wasn't a bad guess either, for Eragon always seemed to muck things up.

He and Thorn were sent to check on the boy, and see how Sarissa's punishments were coming along. That's where Murtagh was now, though he didn't want to be. It always gave him a sick feeling to his stomach to be anywhere near Sarissa, for the woman had broken him for Galbatorix not long ago.

He walked the dark corridors, using the instructions from the guard he had met outside the building to find his brother's cell. According to the guard, Sarissa was not around at the moment so Murtagh had to show himself around. Murtagh didn't mind.

When he found the cell, the rider took a deep breath before entering. He knew that whatever he witnessed in there would not be pretty, as Sarissa was a brutal woman. Opening the door carefully, he took a step inside.

Murtagh cringed at what he saw.

Eragon lay unconscious on a cot in the corner. The boy was much too skinny, and his skin looked too pale in the light from the small window. Shallow cuts dotted his body, as well as burns and bruises. Taking a step closer, Murtagh noticed a stab wound on the boy's leg, and broken ribs. The rider's face was disfigured with more bruises and cuts. His jaw and nose appeared to be broken. A long scorching black mark lined Eragon's torso, and a brand was on his shoulder. More recent, but equally as gruesome wounds oozed blood all over his body, and Murtagh deduced that they were from a session just hours earlier. Turning the boy over, the red rider saw all the whip wounds he had received. The poor boy was the picture of torture.

Something broke inside Murtagh right then. He was so angry all the time, and for good reason, but seeing his brother lying there beaten and helpless made him forget his anger and cruel words. It made him want to curl up and cry—something he had not done since he was twelve years old.

"Oh Eragon, what has she done to you?" Murtagh whispered, wiping the dirty hair out of his brother's eyes.

Galbatorix had ordered him not to heal any of Eragon's wounds, but he did not say that he couldn't reduce some of the boy's pain.

Murtagh voiced a spell that would awaken him, and ease a bit of his suffering. He turned around for the door, not wanting his brother to see him, but before he could exit the room, a feeble mental voice called out to him.

_Murtagh? Is that you?_

Murtagh slowly turned around, letting the blue rider see him. Eragon was now sitting up on the cot, showing more wounds that the red rider had not seen before. His brother recognized him, and the boy's warm brown eyes widened.

For a second, Murtagh wondered why Eragon had not called out to him with his mouth, but then he remembered that the boy's jaw was broken, so forming words was probably very painful and difficult.

Murtagh allowed the boy to connect his mind with his own, albeit grudgingly. The red rider still hadn't gotten over his aversion of letting others into his head.

Strange, lilting music sounded through Eragon's mind, granting evidence of the fact that the boy was half-elf now.

_Murtagh! What are you doing here? _Eragon asked, and then swayed on the bed dizzily, as if the very effort of talking with his mind exhausted him.

Murtagh worriedly approached, and put a hand on Eragon's shoulder, steadying him.

Despite the terrible situation, Eragon smiled.

_Sorry about that. I don't really feel well right now. In fact, I never feel well. There must be a flu going around, I guess. _He snorted.

Shaking his head, Murtagh half-smiled. His brother always was very positive, even in the worst situations.

Murtagh awkwardly cleared his throat. He was bad at expressing his feelings out loud, but he went ahead anyway.

"Eragon…I'm really sorry. I truly am. For everything. You didn't deserve this."

Eragon's eyes softened, and he made to rise off the cot. Murtagh saw this, and put out a hand to help him up. Gratefully, his brother too the hand and got of the bed, shaky on his feet.

They looked at each other straight in the eyes for a moment, and Eragon said,

_I forgive you Murtagh. I know I should be very angry at you right now, but I just cannot bring myself to hate you. You are my brother and my friend, and you should stay that way, no matter what some crazy king has to say about it. We can get out of this mess we're in. I know it. _

Then, before Murtagh even knew what was happening, he found himself being embraced.

He couldn't even remember the last time he was hugged. It made his heart pang to think that his first hug in many years was from his brother, who he had just captured and brought to be tortured.

Tears stung Murtagh's eyes as he returned the embrace. Eragon's body was frighteningly weak to his dismay, and it felt as the poor boy would collapse from the effort of just standing up.

Carefully, the red rider led his blue counterpart to the cot and sat him down. Sitting down too, Murtagh listened as Eragon continued speaking.

_I also have something to apologize for._ He said_. I'm sorry for leading you into this whole chaotic world we're in by having you come to the Varden with me. It started this whole thing, and eventually led to you being captured. I'm so sorry, Murtagh! It's my entire fault that your life is miserable now!_

"No, no, no stop Eragon. Coming to the Varden with you seemed bad at first, but looking back, it wasn't so bad after all. I wouldn't have become good friends with you if I hadn't gone, and, even though the circumstances preceding it weren't very good, I would never have found Thorn." Murtagh replied. "So really, its fine. You shouldn't be the one apologizing in this situation anyway, silly." He ended with a humorless chuckle.

Eragon accepted the speech with a gracious tilt of his head, seeming overjoyed of the fact that he and his half brother were on good terms once again.

_Thank you, Murtagh._

The red rider smiled in return, and then became serious.

"So, what's your plan? I do not want you to become a name-slave of the king as I am, so you must escape before you are sent to him."

_Indeed. The Varden is coming to rescue me. I think. I gave them the information of my whereabouts, but judging by the different cell I'm in right now, Sarissa drugged me and then hauled me to another hide out. _

"That is correct. If you want, I could give them an anonymous tip of where you are now."

_But what if Galbatorix finds out? Then you will be punished most horribly, on only my behalf. _

"I don't care about that anymore, Eragon. You do not deserve the same fate I have, so I must try my hardest to prevent it. It is the right thing to do, especially for a brother."

_I'm honored to have such a brother as you, Murtagh. _Eragon replied, twisting his hand over his chest in what Murtagh remembered to be the Elvin sign of respect.

"Likewise." Murtagh replied. "You better be giving Sarissa a good fight, Eragon."

_Of course I am. I'm never going to give up to that horrendous woman._

"Good. Always remember you have people who love you Eragon. It can give you strength in the most awful of situations."

Eragon nodded, and looked down.

A lull fell in the conversation, and the two brothers sat in companionable silence, reflecting back on what was said.

Thorn's voice broke the quiet as the red dragon called out to his rider from his position on the roof.

_Murtagh! You must leave now if you do not wish to speak with mean-witch-torturer-Sarissa. She is approaching from the east as we speak._

_Aye, I will go now. Be there in two minutes._

_Okay. And when you do come, we have much to talk about. Your mind feels different. Lighter, somehow. It's most peculiar._

_I'll tell you what transpired when we're in the sky._

Thorn sent his agreement through the link as Murtagh rose from the cot.

"I must go. Sarissa is returning from wherever she has left to, and I wish to avoid confrontation with her."

_I understand. Do as you must. _His brother answered.

"It was nice talking to you away from the heat of battle, and free from animosity. It was a welcome change." Murtagh smiled.

_I agree. And let us hope that when we next meet, the black king has been cast down from the throne._

"Definitely. Good bye, Eragon."

_Good bye, Murtagh._

And then Murtagh left the dark room behind, his brother's beaten frame still haunting his brain.

Eragon lay back down on his cot, pondering what was said. From the looks of it, Murtagh was beginning to change his true name. And even better, the red rider had promised to tell the Varden where he was, against Galbatorix's wishes. This brought hope to the forefront of Eragon's mind, and it erased all the terrible thoughts that were threatening to overtake him.

Smiling, the blue rider slipped into his waking dreams, finally peaceful after almost a week of torment.


	7. Vengeance

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Sorry for the huge delay for the new chapter. I've been so busy lately. Enjoy :) **

Arya paced the deserted corridors, sighing heavily and rubbing her forehead.

She, along with Saphira, the other elves, Angela, and Solembum had been sent to Eragon's supposed location after the scrying meeting, but were only met with disappointment. The building was empty, and only the remnants Eragon's torture sessions were left behind.

Saphira raged when she discovered that her little one was not inside the dreary structure, and it took all of the rest of the group's efforts to calm her down. When she did, trudged to the corner of the clearing and laid down, keening softly.

Arya suspected she needed some time alone. They all did. Losing Eragon once again was a huge blow, as their only lead to where the blue rider was being kept was gone. He could be anywhere in Alagaesia. They were too late.

The guilt, frustration, hopelessness, and utter sadness of the situation crashed down upon the elf in waves, giving a heavy feeling to her heart.

_It's all my fault, _Arya thought to herself dejectedly, leaning against the wall. _If I had only accompanied him on the mission, this whole mess could've been avoided. _

First her father, then Faolin and Oromis, and now Eragon were lost to her, and she could do nothing about it. Her eyes stung, and tears threatened to appear.

Eragon was always such a good friend to her; her first friend in what seemed to be ages. He was honest and true, albeit a bit naïve at times. Though he was not the most powerful rider in existence, he tried his best, and always worked to protect his loved ones.

She regretted his romantic affection for her, for it could only lead to heartbreak. And it did, proven by his hasty actions at the Agaeti Blodhren. After that, the rider had seemed more mature, withdrawn even. Arya knew it was her fault. But it had to be done. He was young, and she was old. He had his duties to the Varden and the war before anyone or anything else; so did she.

And how could she forget about Faolin?

Arya sank further down the wall, burying her head in her hands. She was glad her beloved elf-friend was not here to see her now, for she knew he would be disgusted at for breaking down like this and giving up.

But she missed him so much—and everything was going wrong.

Holding in a sob, the green-eyed elf's mood sunk even lower as she thought of the way she had treated Eragon right before he left.

Remembering the conversation brought shame and regret to the forefront of her mind. How could she have acted that way?

Honestly, she reminded herself of when she was young and immature, not a one-hundred and one year old full-grown elf woman.

The look that had come over Eragon's face cut her to the core. She wished that she could take it all back, but such a wish was impossible.

She wished he was here with her now.

Suddenly, Arya rose from the wall, a new conviction in mind.

_I _will_ find him. No matter what, I will make up for my actions. I will save him._

Clenching her fists, she strode from the hallway and out into the sunlight, ready to confront the rest of the group.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw a most unwelcome crimson dragon losing altitude fast, readying himself to land in their midst.

"Oh no…" Arya muttered, her hand instinctively traveling down to the hilt of her sword.

The elves, Angela, and Solembum scattered to the entrance of the building from their make-shift camp, surrounding Arya. Saphira quickly rose from her dejected position on the ground and shook out her wings. A growl rose in her throat and she took place in front of the elves, her sadness forgotten.

_How _dare_ they come near us! They've already caused enough suffering! I will make them wish they'd never been born! _Smoke billowed from her nostrils, and her muscles bunched in anticipation.

"We must either fight or flee. The red pair most likely does not bring tidings of peace." Blohdgarm hurriedly said, his golden eyes wide and wary.

Arya nodded her head sharply. At the same time, Angela shook her head, making negative noises in the back of her throat.

"I don't think Murtagh and Thorn wish to harm us, Mr. Wolf-Elf." She said, her voice completely calm.

"And why not, witch?" Blohdgarm replied, a bit of annoyance seeping through his tone.

"Oh, it's just a feeling I have." Angela answered simply, smugness written plainly on her face. Solembum hissed quietly in agreement and flicked his tail towards the blue-haired elf.

The powerful group watched carefully as Thorn came closer to their location, his wine red scales glittering in the light of the day. Their hands hovered near their weapons, ready to fight at any given moment. Within seconds, the young red dragon was almost to the clearing where the building was, Murtagh sitting regally on his back.

"If they attack, we must fight." Yaela, one of the elves, told the group, "We cannot run, for Thorn would hunt us down as an eagle does a rabbit."

Arya nodded grimly and drew her sword, all the others following her lead except for Angela and Solembum.

Thorn landed roughly, sending vibrations through the ground to the elves, werecat, witch, and dragon.

Saphira sniffed. _I would never land as clumsily as that. _She told the group, disgust radiating from her mind.

"I'm sure you wouldn't, Saphira." Arya reassured, absent-mindedly patting her on the shoulder. It amazed the elf woman that Saphira could think _that_ of all things in such a time as this. But, who was she to try to understand a dragoness?

She walked to the front of the group as Murtagh dismounted, wary. The pair didn't seem like they were going to fight, much to the elf's confusion. Her puzzlement only increased as Murtagh laid Zar'roc on the ground and raised his hands in the sign of surrender.

"I know this sounds corny, but I come in peace!" He shouted across the clearing, slowly approaching with his dragon.

Angela chuckled and poked Blohdgarm, much to his displeasure.

"Ah, what did I tell ya, furry-elf?" She teased.

Arya's mouth lifted a fraction into what someone who was paying close enough attention would call a smile. Then, she composed her face again into an emotionless façade, as was her specialty.

"What do you want, Murtagh?" She replied, her voice cold.

_Yes, what do you want _Murtagh_?_ _You should not have come here. _Saphira added, even more coldly than Arya.

She could remember too many times that the man had hurt Eragon, or her. He killed Oromis and Glaedr. He did not deserve her kindness.

Murtagh flinched, and then surprised everyone present by nodding as if in agreement.

"I know where Eragon is. And I'll tell you." He answered.

Arya's eyes widened, shock breaking through her mask.

Saphira hissed and shifted her position somewhat, obviously caught off guard.

Ignoring the surprised mutterings behind her, Arya readied herself to reply.

"Well? Where is he? You best not be lying to us _King-Killer_ or you will face our wrath."

The blue dragoness beside her harrumphed in agreement, showing her teeth.

Hurt came over Murtagh's face, but he did not reply cuttingly as everyone had expected.

"I am not lying. I have changed my true name, and I wish to help the Varden, as well as my brother." He paused, and then continued in the ancient language, "I give you my word as a rider that Eragon is situated in a secret location two miles west of Furnost."

_Murtagh has helped me change my true name as well. I will also add my word as a dragon to his._ _You can trust us. _Thorn announced.

Hope swelled up in Arya's chest. Her whole body itched to start the journey to Furnost at that very moment but she knew she had to finish the conversation before anything else. As she spoke, she saw from the corner of her eye Saphira unconsciously raising her wings slightly in eagerness.

"We'll see about this trust thing, but I do believe what you speak. What are you going to do now, now that you have gained your freedom?" Arya asked in reply.

"Well, defeat Galbatorix of course!" Murtagh answered, incredulity that someone would ask such a question written all over his face.

"Are you prepared to face the Varden, and their hatred?" Arya further interrogated.

"Yes. We will do what we must to dethrone the dark tyrant." The red rider replied with finality.

"Then let us go save Eragon." With those words said, Arya strode to the make-shift camp and started to gather her belongings.

The others followed, and soon all traces that there ever was a large group staying in that clearing were wiped away. Saphira, Thorn and Murtagh watched on silently, studiously avoiding each other's gazes.

Murtagh broke the quiet when everyone was settled.

"So how will we be traveling?" He said, referring to the difficulty of having seventeen passengers and only two dragons.

Angela piped up in answer and she marched towards the rider until she stood in front of him, the height difference comical.

"The elves with their speedy little feet will run on the ground while Solembum and I get the hot seats on Saphira. You and Thorn will fly as well. Duh!"

Murtagh raised one eyebrow, and then blushed, seeming a bit embarrassed.

"I almost forgot how…interesting…it is to talk to you, Angela, for lack of a better word." He grinned slightly.

"Huh. Well I'll take that as a compliment." And with that being said she patted him on the cheek and walked back to Saphira. Before she mounted, however, she called out again to the red rider.

"Oh, and by the way, I forgive you Mr. I'm-going-to-get-my-butt-captured-and-act-evil. Hopefully you'll make up for it in the future."

Murtagh blushed even further and shook his head as if bemused.

All the while, the elves looked on closely, unreadable expressions upon their faces.

Arya still didn't trust Murtagh, not at all actually, but she could tell he was changed. He was almost like the old Murtagh she used to know, the one that fought bravely at Farthen Dur. But she'd have to see if this new Murtagh would stay. She resolved to watch closely.

And then they were off, the elves gracefully running on the ground, and the magnificent dragons carrying their passengers through the air. All had one thing in mind: to rescue the savior of the Varden.

RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR RRRRRRRRRRRRR

Arya observed the dull-looking building, calculating the best way to invade the premises. She was hiding in a large tree, her Elvin comrades surrounding her.

It had taken them several days to run the long distances to Furnost, and it seemed their slow progress began to frustrate the much-faster dragons.

Murtagh, Thorn, Saphira, Angela, and Solembum were hidden up in the clouds, looking down and awaiting the signal to attack.

Paranoid of being overheard, Arya relayed the plan to everyone mentally, and then started to execute it.

Saphira dove from the clouds, Angela and Solembum holding on for dear life, and roared threateningly. She blasted a burning-hot blue ball of fire at the ground for emphasis, and then powerfully landed upon the earth.

Her two passengers quickly untied their securing straps and slid down from the saddle, obviously shaken but ready to fight.

As if on cue, a dozen guards filed out of the building, weapons in hand. They attacked in unison, emitting battle cries. But before they could even get within fifteen feet of the trio, Saphira flattened them all with her tail. Her spikes impaled them, and the force of it sent them all flying into the various trees surrounding the building.

One soldier somehow missed being sent flying by Saphira's tail, and he started to retreat frantically. He didn't reach the door before Solembum, in cat form, latched onto his back and ripped his throat out with his claws.

Nonchalant, he returned to the two females, licking the blood of his paws. Angela patted him on the head and smiled.

Saphira roared once more, challenging without words for more soldiers she could kill. The remaining soldiers, now smartened up, stayed inside and instead pointed arrows out the windows. Not deterred, Saphira, Angela, and Solembum did not flee, for they knew their wards would protect them.

After the first, second, and then third volleys of arrows did nothing, the soldiers decided to attack by foot once more, albeit a bit more carefully.

Their attacks surmised to nothing for when they came close to the dragoness and her two partners, they were struck down as easily as if they were daisies in a hurricane.

All seemed well for the trio, until reinforcements suddenly arrived from out of the building, and from the rear.

Grinning fiendishly, for the soldiers had acted exactly as she had predicted, Arya motioned for the other elves to join the fight. She held back on mentally calling out to Murtagh and Thorn, for she wanted to reveal their allegiance only if necessary.

The combined might of the elves, the werecat, the witch, and the dragon sliced through all the dozens of forces easily. Only minimal injuries were accumulated, as no one was perfect when so outnumbered.

Finally, when all the soldiers had been eliminated or had fled in fear, Arya decided to enter the building with her comrades. She knew Sarissa was still in the building, as well as probably some more guards, so they all went in with their weapons ready and their senses sharp.

Saphira, much to her irritation, stayed outside on the ground, while Thorn and Murtagh looked on from above in case anything went wrong. Seven of the elves decided to stay with the dragoness as well, for if all fourteen elves, plus Angela and Solembum entered the building together, it would be much too crowded and their fighting would be hindered.

Arya led her group down the long, dimly lit corridor carefully, and opened herself to all sounds. She heard hurried footsteps above her, so she directed everyone to the staircase. As they creeped up the stairs, Arya cast her mind out for Eragon, and figured out that he was above them, along with…Sarissa.

Just thinking the name made Arya's stomach twist in anger and anticipation. Unknowingly, her face pulled into a half-snarl, half-grimace, as if she was disgusted with the very thought of the horrible woman.

They all continued up to the second floor, their weapons held firmly in their hands.

When they reached the top of the stairs, they spread out around the corridor to have maximum space for fighting. In unison, they slowly walked along the hallway, checking each door for Eragon.

A chilling laugh interrupted their search, and all nine heads snapped to the sound.

Sarissa stood at the end of the hallway, alone, but somehow confident.

Sneering, she spoke. "Ah, now what do we have here? The elite members of the Varden, come to retake their prize? How curious. May I ask how you _kind_ people figured out the location of this wonderful place?"

Her tone made it clear to Arya that the woman did not think that her guests were "kind" at all, but she went ahead with her reply anyway.

"It does not concern you, witch." She said darkly, her eyes hard.

Seeing the horrible woman in person made Arya's blood boil, and it took all of her will not to attack right then. She knew that was exactly what Sarissa wanted her to do, so she held back. For now.

"I suppose." Sarissa took a step down, putting herself closer to her opponents. A sinister smile adorned her face, which sent shivers down Arya's spine.

"We are here to rescue Eragon, and you will not stand in our way. Move aside, or die." The green-eyed elf said menacingly.

Sarissa was not frightened.

"Oh really? Well I'd love to see you try." She stood her ground as Arya and Blodhgarm approached. The rest of the group stayed back, ready to jump in when need arose.

Wary that something was up Sarissa's sleeve, the two elves carefully assessed the situation, and simultaneously decided to just strike.

Arya slashed her sword towards the witch's head, confident that her Elvin speed could do the job, while Blodhgarm stabbed in the direction of her stomach.

It looked like there was no way to survive such an attack, but Sarissa shocked them all, and spun away from the two swords so quickly that eyes could barely follow her movements. Arya's blade missed her face by a centimeter.

Utterly confused, Arya paused before her next attack.

_How can she be this fast? _She wondered, and then quickly remembered that Galbatorix must've increased her speed with magic.

Disturbed now, Arya and Blodhgarm boosted the effort of their attacks, trying their very hardest to subdue the witch.

Slash after slash of the two elves' swords were avoided by Sarissa, and it seemed that there was no way to win.

Realizing that the witch was just toying with them, Arya recalculated her plan. She stopped in her attacks for a moment, eliciting a curious look from her partner.

Then she gathered her leg muscles under herself, and launched herself as fast as she could at Sarissa. A puzzled look came to Sarissa's face as she sidestepped out of the way.

Missing Sarissa completely, Arya landed roughly on the ground on the other side of where the witch was standing.

Smiling at her success, for Arya had known in the first place that this would happen, the green-eyed elf rose to her feet and sprinted to the door she instinctively knew to be Eragon's.

As she ran, she called out, "Attack!" knowing her companions would understand her plan.

Sarissa had time for one growl of frustration when she figured out what Arya did before she was assaulted by eight of the most powerful members of the Varden.

The green-eyed elf twisted the door knob to Eragon's room impatiently, but was met with nothing. Despite herself, Arya became angry. She backed up a few steps and then ran full force at the door, intending to break it down.

The wooden door stood no chance before the might of an angered Elvin warrior. It blew open with a bang, splintered wood raining to the floor. But Arya ignored it. All she could see at that moment was Eragon.

He slept huddled up on his cot, looking extremely weak and thin. His body shuddered with each shallow breath it took.

Arya's feet unconsciously took her closer to the poor boy. She knelt down beside him, staring in horror at his body.

He only wore his leggings, but they were the shabbiest, dirtiest, and most ripped pair of leggings the elf had ever seen. Blood soaked through them, so she knew there were wounds underneath them too.

Hundreds of cuts and bruises mangled his body—some worse than others but all looked painful. She even saw a few stab wounds. Everywhere Arya looked she saw blood. It flowed freely from many of the more recent injuries, and the oozed out of the older ones, which looked horribly infected.

Dozens of burns littered his skin where the cuts and bruises did not, making him look like a blackened mess. Looking closer, Arya saw many of the bones in his right leg were broken and twisted at odd angles. His left arm was the same way, as were his ribs.

Her blood turned to ice as she saw a particular brand on his shoulder that labeled him as "Property of Sarissa." This one almost sent her over the edge, but she held onto her calm. She would need it.

Finally, the elf woman lifted her eyes to his face. Bruises, cuts and burns were everywhere. They distorted his features so much that to someone who does not know him as well as she did, he would appear to be a stranger.

His jaw appeared to be broken—a cruel trick designed to make even his screams during torture to hurt even more.

Tears came to her eyes as she bowed her head over his body.

"Oh Eragon." Arya whispered softly, "I'm so sorry."

And then she gathered his body into her arms and picked him up. She could feel fever upon his skin. The heat of it radiated into her own body and only increased the direness of the situation. The infection could kill him at any moment.

Turning around, she started to head for the door. She almost jumped in surprised when she saw all eight of her comrades standing before her. She was so absorbed with Eragon that she did not even hear them come in.

"Where is Sarissa?" She inquired, confused.

"She escaped." Wryden, one of the elves, replied.

"How could she have escaped?" Arya shouted, losing her cool.

"When she saw that she was going to be defeated she turned her back and ran down the hall to the window. She jumped out of it and disappeared before we could see where she had gone. We looked everywhere for her, Princess, but to no avail. I'm so sorry."

Arya closed her eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself.

"We must get him to a safe place and worry about Sarissa later. He is near death." She said once she opened her eyes, nodding her head towards the boy she held in her arms.

Not waiting for an answer, the elf woman hurried out the door, Eragon cradled to her body.

Before this whole ordeal, Arya would've had to put forth a bit of effort to run while carrying the boy. But now, it was incredibly easy. Saddeningly easy. Eragon had lost a great amount of weight, so holding him in her arms was as easy as holding a child.

She sprinted down the stairs and out the door, her comrades close behind her. Saphira bugled with joy when she saw Arya come out with Eragon, but did not move.

Baffled, Arya looked closer and saw that Saphira had someone trapped under her foot…Sarissa. Her eyes lit up.

"Saphira! You caught her!" She said with glee.

_Yes, I did. And you have gotten my Eragon._ She replied.

"How did you do it?" Blodhgarm asked.

_Well I heard a commotion in the woods so I decided to investigate. I found this…_monster_…trying to escape, so I taught her a lesson. _

"Let me go now, you horrible beast!" Sarissa desperately cried from underneath the enormous blue paw.

"Not likely, bitch." Arya answered for Saphira.

_Do I have permission to kill her now? _Saphira asked. _ I hesitated in doing so before, for I knew that maybe you had some words to say first._

"I do." Arya said. Then, to Sarissa, "In this instance I hope hell exists, for you deserve to burn in it for all eternity in return for what you have done to Eragon."

Pure hatred coated her words, but she did not regret them in the slightest bit.

Everyone else nodded. Angela even said, "Here, here!"

Suddenly, Thorn dove from the clouds and quickly landed next to Saphira.

"What are you doing Mur—" Arya started, but was cut off.

"I deserve to give a few words too." He stated simply, his eyes hard.

Nodding, she stepped aside.

In a low voice, Murtagh confronted the witch.

"I truly wish it was me that was to give the killing blow. You have done too much to me, oh so much. I hope your death will be filled with as much pain as you have given Eragon and I. Goodbye, _Sarissa._ You will not be missed."

With that being said he stepped back to Thorn, his fists clenched at his sides.

The red dragon only snarled at the woman, small blasts of flame bursting from his nostrils.

Finally, Saphira spoke.

_You do not deserve my words, woman. _She said simply, and then, ignoring her pitiful struggles, blew a gigantic fireball into Sarissa's face.

The witch screamed horrendously in complete agony, but her wails soon died out. Saphira extinguished her flames and then took the woman in her mouth, none too gently, and crunched down.

Disgusting cracks filled the air, but no one winced. This was justice.

Saphira ended with throwing the woman at a tree with her mouth.

Sarissa the torturer was no more.


	8. Arya

Quiet reigned throughout the clearing for several seconds after Sarissa's death. The members of the Varden looked on in silence at her body, relieved that the witch had finally been stopped. After a moment, Arya spoke, snapping everyone out of their reveries.

"Sarissa is dead. But our troubles are far from over. Eragon must be healed, right now. His wounds are taking a deathly toll." She still held the unconscious boy in her arms, cradling his head to her chest.

Saphira gave a bob of her head in agreement, then lowered it to her rider, gently stroking his head with her snout.

Arya could feel strong emotions coming from the great blue dragoness, of love and compassion and desperation.

Privately, Arya spoke to her.

_Do not despair Saphira. Eragon is strong. He will be fine._

She turned a large sapphire eye to the elf woman, gratitude flowing through their link.

_Heal my little one well, Arya. _With that said, the dragoness withdrew from her mind and retreated to sit by Solembum and Thorn.

"I sense a stream close by where we can wash the grime from his body." Blodhgarm said, motioning to the six other males of his elvin comrades.

The male elves prepared to leave, Arya and Eragon close behind.

"Wait! Do you need my help?" Murtagh called, halting the parade.

Blodhgarm turned, his face betraying nothing of his emotions.

"I suppose you could be of assistance. Come. We do not have all day."

Murtagh hurried from his dragon and joined the group, leaving the females, werecat, and dragons behind.

The group entered the woods, following Blodhgarm to where the stream was. Arya walked at the back of the group, carrying Eragon and trying her best not to jolt him awake.

However, her exhausted feet were not so graceful anymore after several days of running. Much to her chagrin, she stumbled over a rock jutting out from the ground, almost jostling the blue rider from his slumber.

Deciding to play it safe, Arya muttered a spell over the boy that would keep him asleep. She stroked his face, wiping some of the grime from his cheeks and carefully avoiding his wounds.

"You poor boy." She whispered, wanting more than anything to make this whole experience just disappear from their minds. He did not deserve this horrid burden. She knew he was to be healed shortly, and the pain would fade away, but she knew the memories would haunt him for a life time. He did not deserve that.

The group stopped and Arya lifted her eyes from Eragon's face. The stream lay before them, the water peaceful flowing calming the elf woman's nerves.

She laid Eragon down near the bank, feeling the eyes of the others heavy upon her back. She looked sharply towards them.

"Is there a problem?" She inquired curtly, her eyes glinting.

"I apologize, Arya Svitkona, but I cannot allow you to aid us right now."

_How dare they try to stop me from helping my greatest friend. _She thought angrily.

"Why not?" She challenged, though she suspected the reason why.

"Excuse me for being so bold, but you are not his mate, nor are you a male so it is not within your rights to disturb his modesty this way."

Realizing his implications, Arya blushed and nodded. It would not be right for a lady to see him undressed, even if she was an elf.

"Very well. I will take my leave. If you need any help in the healing process do not hesitate in calling me." She said haughtily, attempting to hold onto her pride.

Holding her head high, she strode from the forest and back into the clearing where the rest of the group stayed.

Angela and Solembum were resting in the shade of a nearby tree, the werecat purring contently on the witch's lap. The female elves were sitting together a small distance from the building. Arya assumed they had just returned from disposing of Sarissa's body.

Saphira was pacing back and forth in the grass, obviously anxious. Thorn was lying beside her, basking in the dying warmth of the sun and following her movements with half-lidded eyes. The light from the sunset reflected off their scales and cast strange patterns on the ground, dazzling anyone who happened to look in their direction.

When the blue dragoness saw Arya emerge from the trees, she bounded over to her, her eyes wide and alert.

_Green-one! _She exclaimed, bombarding Arya's mental barriers in her excitement. _How is Eragon? I wish to see him but the trees are too close for me to land. He is still unconscious as well, so I cannot connect my mind with his._ Arya could feel waves of unhappiness and impatience searing the young dragon's veins.

"Eragon is fine, Saphira. You know that. The males are washing and healing him at the river as we speak." Arya replied soothingly, sending thoughts of peace through their link.

_I know, I know. I just itch to see him and be one with him again. _Saphira said solemnly. _We have been separated for far too long._

"I agree." Arya murmured, "At least he is safe now."

_Indeed. _Saphira paused. _Would you like to go flying with me until Eragon returns? I do not think I can just stand here idly, or I will die of impatience. _

Arya's eyes widened. "Really? You would allow me to fly with you, when I am not your rider?"

_Of course. You are practically a member of the family, green-one. _The blue dragoness answered fondly. _Especially after what you have done for Eragon and me in rescuing him._

Touched, Arya bowed and twisted her hand over her chest in gratitude.

"I am honored, Saphira."

_You should be. _She said smugly, a silly draconic grin on her features.

Then, before Arya even had time to brace herself, Saphira grabbed her in her paw and launched into the skies. Much to her embarrassment and Saphira's amusement, the elf woman let out a startled shriek.

Saphira pulled into several corkscrews and flips once they were in the air. Arya held onto Saphira's paw for dear life, exhilarated yet terrified at the same time.

The world whirled around her in frightening displays of blinding light, bright colors, and startling darkness. Just when she felt she was going to be sick, the joker of a dragon that was carrying her straightened her flight and put her passenger in the saddle, laughing her strange dragon laugh while she was at it.

Arya plopped onto the leather of the saddle and hurriedly strapped herself in. Her heart was racing from either excitement or fear—she couldn't tell which one.

Letting loose a shaky sigh, she mentally called out to Saphira, not trusting her voice.

_That was incredible! _She shouted, her eyes wide. She had never felt so alive.

_Glad you liked it. _Saphira replied, her eyes twinkling. _Now I'll show you what peaceful flying is like._

She then proceeded to fly higher in the sky until they were both above the clouds, looking down at the world. Riding the air currents gently, the beautiful dragoness flapped her wings only when necessary, and relaxed.

Her mind still partially connected to her blue counterpart, Arya found herself starting to relax to, letting all the worrying thoughts of the day just fade away. She closed her eyes and felt the wind upon her face, letting Saphira's periodic wing beats lull her into meditation.

The duo glided up above the land for several minutes, enjoying each other's presence. After a while, Saphira finally broke the silence.

_Arya? _She asked,_ Can I ask you a question? I promise to keep your answer between us, and no one else._

"Of course, Saphira." She answered, her voice light.

_Do you have feelings for my rider?_

Arya froze, shocked. She did not expect this question at all. A bit angry, she was defensive in her reply.

"No." She said sharply. "What makes you say that?"

Saphira twisted her head around to face her passenger, her vibrant blue eyes unreadable.

_Nevermind. _She eventually said, her voice dismissive. _Forget I said anything._

Disturbed now, Arya settled into her thoughts, being careful to shield that part of her mind from Saphira.

Eragon was just a friend, right?

A few minutes after their somewhat-awkward conversation, Saphira spotted Blodhgarm and the other males emerge from the woods, carrying a now healed Eragon.

Bugling with joy, Saphira dove from the clouds at a speed that startled the elf woman on her back. They were on the ground in the clearing within seconds, waking Thorn from his nap.

He hissed quietly at them, annoyed at being woken up. Surprisingly, Arya saw that most of his irritation was directed at _her_!

_How is it my fault that you were woken up? That was all Saphira! _She said to herself. Shaking her head, she dismounted from the very impatient dragoness and landed on the ground.

As soon as her passenger left the saddle, Saphira bounded away to the arriving group, her eyes bright with excitement at seeing her rider.

Blodhgarm, seeing Saphira's impatience laid the still unconscious Eragon on the ground gently for her inspection.

Her muzzle trembling slightly, the blue dragoness reached her head down to her rider's body, drinking in his appearance.

His healers had washed the grime from his body and dressed him. Every single wound on his body was healed, leaving his skin looking smooth and unblemished. Seeming satisfied, Saphira lifted her head and snorted.

_How long will he be sleeping like this? _She asked, turning to Blodhgarm, yet broadcasting her question to the rest of the group as well.

"We will remove the spell in the morning. His body needs rest to recuperate, as does his mind. I'm sorry Brightscales. You'll have to wait."

Dipping her head in understanding, Saphira turned back to her rider.

_Are there any scars? _

Blodhgarm shifted on his feet, uncomfortable.

"For the most part, no." He said, looking down.

_For the most part? _Saphira repeated, her voice dangerous.

"Well…there was a certain wound that Sarissa used magic to make sure would be permanent." The blue haired elf replied regretfully.

_Show me. _Saphira commanded, an undercurrent of something bad in her voice.

Nodding, Blodhgarm motioned to Gazlin, the elf nearest to Eragon to do as the dragoness said.

Gazlin swiftly unbuttoned Eragon's borrowed shirt and pulled it away from his shoulder, revealing the brand.

Everyone who had not seen it before gasped, horrified.

_PROPERTY OF SARISSA_ was written plainly on his skin, healed, but the scar still easily visible.

Saphira stiffened when she saw the burn, her eyes icy. A low, quiet growl began deep within her throat, sending involuntary shivers down Arya's spine. The growl grew in volume until she could actually _feel _it within the air, within her bones. Saphira was _furious._ After a tense moment, the growl abruptly ended.

_Now this in this that witch has gone too far! How DARE she write on my Eragon? I've already killed her but I want to kill her again! _The fearsome dragoness shouted within everyone's minds, beyond angry.

A couple of the elves flinched at Saphira's outburst, a bit scared despite themselves. Even Thorn withdrew his head a bit.

Arya, who was at Saphira's side, put her hand on the raging dragoness' shoulder.

"It's alright now, Saphira. Eragon is healed and pain-free. Sarissa is dead. Everything is fine." She whispered soothingly, sending calming thoughts to her distressed consciousness.

Saphira whipped her head around to face Arya, breathing smoke. A fire was lit in her eyes, and her teeth were bared.

_Be quiet! _She hissed, losing her temper. _Who are you to say if everything is fine? It is not! My rider is scarred for life with a degrading message! He was just tortured to within an inch of death! You have no right to say that everything is _fine!

Arya took a step back, shocked at her friend's tirade, and a bit scared.

"Excuse me, Brightscales. It was not my intention to imply that, or offend you." Arya said once her voice returned. She kept her tone emotionless, fearful of angering the dragoness once again.

They stared at each other for a long moment, elf and dragon. Saphira's hard sapphire eyes glared beseechingly into Arya's emerald ones, the tension palpable. Then, as if she had come to her senses, Saphira softened, drooping her head over her rider's body.

_I am sorry, green-one. I am not myself lately. _She said softly, shame coloring her tone.

"It is alright, Saphira. I understand this is a trying time for you. As it is for all of us."

_It's all so unfair…_The dragoness said softly, closing her eyes. Her depressed tone made Arya want to curl up and cry.

Ignoring everyone's stares, Saphira reached her head down and gently gathered Eragon into her mouth, being tremendously cautious about not hurting him with her sharp teeth. Then, majestic as ever, she walked away to the shade of a nearby tree and put Eragon carefully down upon the ground. She curled up next to him and covered him with her wing while closing her eyes. It was the clearest message she could give: Leave them alone.

And so everyone did.

After Saphira went to sleep under the tree with Eragon, Arya decided to bathe in the river. She tried to disconnect her mind from everything that had happened recently, clearing her thoughts to relax. Once clean, she returned to camp and walked to the shade where Angela and Solembum were resting and sat down against a tree.

"Where did the female elves go?" She asked the witch, sighing.

"They left to collect some berries and such so we all won't starve." Angela replied.

"Oh. I suppose I should go help them then." She said, rising to her feet once again. She winced as her joints popped.

_I really should rest more often._ Arya tiredly mused to herself.

Casting her mind out to the other elves, she walked towards the woods once more while trying her hardest not to drag her feet. She connected to Yaela's mind.

_Yaela. I have returned. Do you need help gathering food? _She asked the silver haired elf woman.

_Greetings Arya Svitkona. And no, we do not need your assistance. We are on our way back with what we have foraged._

Sending her understanding through the link, Arya severed the connection while walking back to Angela and Solembum.

Sitting down again, she rested her head against the tree and closed her eyes.

"Tired, huh?" Angela inquired conversationally. Arya opened her lids to see the witch smiling at her with Solembum purring on her lap.

"Yes." She answered shortly, not in the mood for conversation. She closed her eyes.

"So when are you going to admit your feelings to Eragon?" The witch asked calmly, in a voice that could've been talking about the weather.

Arya stiffened and opened her eyes a second time.

"What did you just say?" The she elf asked, as if in warning.

"You heard me." Angela responded with a grin.

Arya narrowed her eyes at the witch.

"My feelings for Eragon are that of a friend. I have no romantic inclinations towards him whatsoever." She growled, but too quickly.

"Ah. I see. No romantic inclination. Right." The witch said, not attempting at all to hide her sarcasm.

"Are you saying I'm lying?" Arya hissed menacingly, losing her cool.

In a small part of her mind, the elf realized that going so long without out rest wasn't very good for her temper.

Perfectly calm, Angela replied, "Yes, I _am_ saying that."

Arya fumed. "Why—" she began, before her companion cut her off.

"I see the way you look at him, and the way you acted whenever the subject of his capture was arisen back at the Varden. You care for him, Arya. Do not deny it. Though you may be over eighty years older than him, you love him. Faolin does not hold your heart anymore. I can see it.

Struck speechless, the elf woman could only stare at the witch, her eyes wide.

"How—How did you know about Faolin?" She asked once she got her words back.

"That does not matter. Stick to the point." Angela dismissed.

Looking down, Arya cleared her throat.

"Even if I did—_love_—him, our relationship would never work. We have a war going on, Angela. There is no time for love."

"If you say so." The witch said, raising her eyebrows.

Arya continued as if she hadn't heard her.

"Perhaps the relationship could work later-if we win the war. And once he has aged a bit. If he still has feelings for me ten years from now, then…maybe. Time will be the answer." She said, her voice soft now.

Angela looked at her, long and hard. Arya felt as if the witch could see to her soul, and it gave her a very exposed and naked feeling.

As if reaching a conclusion, the curly haired woman nodded and rose to her feet.

"Glad we had this talk then. It's cleared up a few things." Grinning toothily, Angela strode away to meet the now-returning female elves.

Solembum paused in his pursuit of the witch and looked back at Arya, his vibrant blue eyes reflecting the light. After a moment, he flicked his tail and trotted away, leaving Arya feeling scrutinized.

Shaking her head at the whole situation, Arya rose to her feet just as Angela had, stretching while she was at it. She let out a small groan as her muscles screamed in soreness and she sighed. Wasn't it ironic that two people asked about her relationship with Eragon on the same day?

_Sometimes…I hate my life. _Arya said to herself, snorting with dark humor.

Then, the elf woman regained her former indifferent façade and she strode purposely to the arriving group.

_I cannot let my guard down so easily anymore_, she asserted to herself. _Angela could see right through me._

Nodding to her food bringing comrades, Arya began to help them set up camp. They would have to stay the night here. They all needed rest. The Varden could wait until the morning.

Lost in her thoughts, Arya set out to gather wood for the fire. As she collected the fallen branches and logs, she thought long and hard about Eragon.

_Do I actually love him? _She asked herself.

Thinking back to when she first met him all those months ago, she perused all her memories.

_I admit that I did initially think he was rather good-looking when I first met him. For a human at least. And he was so…interesting to me. He even saved my life. I remember how much his innocence and kindness intrigued me back then. He has matured a bit now though, ever since the Agaeti Blodhren. But is that necessarily a bad thing? Oh…I don't even know what to think!_

Arya broke the long branch she was holding in half particularly roughly in her frustration.

_I would give up my life for him, and he for me. Is that love? I do not know. Perhaps. But I cannot even begin to think of loving him in a…physical…way right now. _She sighed, for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day. _I do not think I could handle that so soon after Faolin's death. Maybe someday I will learn to love in that manner again. But not right now. Only time will tell. _ She concluded, nodding her head subconsciously.

With her thoughts and feelings finally straight within her mind, Arya headed back to camp, her wooden cargo held tightly to her body.

When she arrived back to the clearing, she dropped the load onto the ground. Using magic, she cleared a spot on the ground of grass and built the skeleton of the fire.

"_Brisingr._" She muttered, setting fire to the logs.

The rest of the group filed over and sat by the fire. Yaela offered some food to her and Arya gratefully accepted it. She couldn't remember the last time she ate.

_Maybe yesterday? _She mused absent-mindedly while filling her stomach with sweet red berries, acorns, and chives.

Her meal finished, she looked over at Thorn and Murtagh, who had pitched themselves right next to Eragon and Saphira. All four of them were sleeping peacefully side by side. With the exception of Eragon of course, they were exhausted from the exertions of the day.

_It's ironic how four beings can be enemies one day, and then companions the next. I guess fighting towards the same goal softens harsh feelings. _She thought wryly.

Tilting her head to the sky, Arya closed her eyes and felt the moonlight on her skin.

_If two fearsome dragons can calm their hatred towards each other, maybe there's hope for this world after all._

**Author's Note: Hey everyone! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, although it was a bit of a filler with no action…But whatever :) I have a message to my current and potential reviewers though—If you're going to review, feel free to criticize me. I want this story to be the best it can possibly be, so yeah, go ahead and give me some suggestions or revisions that in your opinion could make the story better. Thanks!**


	9. Awakening

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Rachel here (that's my real name; I forgot to mention that at the beginning of all this), AND the new chapter. I know, I know, you are all probably saying "About damn time!", and I completely agree. I've taken too long. And I can't honestly say that it was time well spent. I've been very lazy lately :) Well, without further ado, I present to you….CHAPTER NINE!**

The first thing Eragon's mind could comprehend when he began to creep back into consciousness was the absence of the agony. The ever-present agony that threatened to send him over the edge—It was gone. Just _gone_. The dragon rider was bewildered by it, yet delighted. For the first time in what seemed to be forever, his tormented body felt comfortable and pain-free.

Warmth surrounded him like a blanket, and he embraced it like a long lost friend. For it was. This wonderful kind of heat was not something that came often into his life anymore, and he relished in it. It was so extraordinarily different from the heat he usually experienced, that burning, mind bendingly painful heat that came from _her. _

Eragon automatically skirted his mind away from that of his torturer, a habit that he came into within the first several days of his imprisonment. The thought of the woman disgusted him, and it made him shudder just to think of her.

Shifting position, he lay there, content. His thoughts drifted lazily around. Warmth. No Pain. He was in heaven.

A small, quiet whine interrupted his bliss, and his eyebrows furrowed. Vibrations reached him through the ground, and it felt as if the whole room was shaking.

_What's going on? That sounded exactly like a dragon…_my_ dragon! And the room was shaking! _Eragon thought, confused. _But there's no possible way Saphira could be here now. No way. I'm going crazy. The torture_ _is making me go mad._

He sighed and relaxed somewhat. He was going crazy. That's what was going on! He was just imagining the absence of the pain, and the warmth. And… his dragon. Tears filled his closed eyes as loneliness and hopelessness once again filled him. Of course Saphira wasn't here. She and he would never see each other again as free creatures. All because of _Galbatorix._

Another whine filled his awareness and he jumped. A scratching sound accompanied it this time, as well as the shaking.

He finally decided to open his eyes.

_What's the hurt? _He reasoned. _I'm already going crazy._

The dragon rider cracked his eyes open a bit, and was confronted by a dark blue.

_This isn't my cell…_He confusedly said to himself. He took a closer look. _This looks like Saphira's wing! _He exclaimed.

Scrambling up from his position on the ground, he tapped the wing. Wing membrane. Saphira's wing membrane!

He let out a cry of joy. _I don't think this is my imagination this time! _

Automatically reaching out his consciousness to the blue dragoness, he wiggled himself through a hole in her mental barriers that only he knew about, and plunged into her mind. He stopped short when he realized she was dreaming. Understanding dawned on him, for now he knew why she was shaking and whining. She was having a nightmare.

He pushed the bad dream away and calmed her sleeping consciousness, providing a soothing blanket of peace on her mind.

He was about to retreat from her head to leave her to her sleep, when suddenly she woke up and grabbed his consciousness.

_Eragon! _She boomed, and the wing that provided a warm tent over his head was lifted. Harsh bright light entered his vision as he was revealed to the rest of the world.

_Eragon! _His blue dragoness called out again, and immediately he was enveloped in a tight mental and physical embrace. Thoughts, feelings, and memories flooded between the reunited dragon and rider as Eragon hugged his other half.

"Saphira…I missed you so much." He choked out, emotion clogging his voice.

_And I you, little one. _Saphira replied, her voice tender.

They continued hugging each other, not wanting to be kept apart even for one moment.

_How did you find me? What happened to Sarissa? Oh Saphira I'm so confused!_

_Well…It's a bit of a long story. _

Saphira shoved her memories into her rider's mind, and her point of view of the two weeks they had been apart flooded into his head. Eragon took all the information in, curious to see what he had missed when he was in Sarissa's clutches.

The first of what he saw was her sorrowful journey back to the Varden, which made his heart pang. Saphira had been incredibly distraught through the whole trip, and he knew it was his fault. He failed her, and was captured because of it.

His dragon heard this and growled.

_Eragon! _She berated. _How can you say that it was your fault? _

_But —_

_No buts. You tried your very hardest out there. No one could have asked better of you. Murtagh was probably three times more powerful than you because of those slave-dragon-heart-minds he has, and you _still_ bested him until the final blow. It was not your fault. _

_Then who's was it?_

_Galbatorix's. He has started this whole mess._

Nodding solemnly, Eragon returned his attention to the memories, knowing he lost the argument.

Her arrival back at Feinster to the cheering of thousands of the Varden played in his mind's eye. He watched as they all fell silent when they saw that she was injured and he was not in the saddle.

He watched as the conversation with the Varden's leaders ensued, and he took particular notice to the expression of guilt on Arya's face. He listened as Nasuada shot down Arya's request at starting the journey to rescue him right then, and felt Saphira's frustration.

He got swept away into the next memory of Saphira and Arya talking together late that night, and saw as they comforted each other. His dragon did not allow him to hear their exact words, however, so his curiosity was aroused. Had they been talking about him? Though he was a bit miffed about not being blocked from the conversation, Eragon accepted the pair's privacy and moved on, now assured that his dragon had not suffered through his absence alone.

The follow days passed agonizingly slow for Saphira, and he watched as she moped around camp in misery.

The scene with the scrying mirror came up, and Eragon watched tensely as he saw the meeting through his dragon's eyes.

He saw himself come into view and he felt a bit uncomfortable. The knowledge that everyone had seen him get thrashed about by his captors made him feel self-conscious and ashamed.

Saphira noticed the path his emotions were taking and consoled him.

_Little one, why do you feel embarrassed? All who were present at the meeting know you are a fearsome warrior, and that you were drugged and chained so you could not fight back properly. No one doubts your prowess, Eragon. _

Comforted, Eragon gave a mental nod and sent a flurry of loving feelings to his dragoness.

The series of memories resumed, and Eragon saw himself shout out his location. He was immediately overwhelmed at the flood of hope that his dragon had felt.

The next memory he saw was one of his rescuers failure to intercept him in time at his first imprisoned location. Saphira's desperation and utter depression colored the tone of the scene, and Eragon's heart once again panged for his dragoness.

He witnessed Murtagh and Thorn arrive much to everyone's surprise, and watched as they told of his new location and offered their help. Saphira's hope, newly invigorated, shone through in her thoughts.

When Murtagh proclaimed that he and Thorn had changed their true names, Eragon mentally nodded.

_So I was correct. Murtagh _did_ manage to change his true name. _He muttered to himself.

As he looked on through Saphira's eyes, Eragon could plainly feel that the blue dragoness was a bit uncomfortable with Thorn around, but curious as well.

The two dragons had struck up a silent truce that did not need words to convey, and they both flew together to his location as somewhat peaceful companions. The tension between the two was still there, but much less than what it had been.

The present day Saphira noticed Eragon's particular interest in her relationship with the red dragon and gave the draconic equivalent of a sheepish grin.

_What can I say? The red one is not so bad after all. Though he has been the twisted-oath-breaker-traitor's name slave all his life, his thoughts are not stinted. He is an honorable, fierce dragon, and could be a great friend some day. _Saphira concluded.

Eragon smiled, genuinely happy for his dragoness.

_I'm glad, Saphira. It is about time you have a friend that is your own age and species. And maybe someday, if find him suitable, you could finally have a mate._

Saphira's eyes widened, and she shifted her feet uncomfortably. _Whoa, there. Don't get ahead of yourself. We barely know each other! _She paused, collecting her thoughts. _And plus, I do not think I can even think of him that way. We have been enemies for too long. _

Her rider nodded, accepting her answer.

_I suppose you're right. But remember, Saphira, I do not care which mate you pick, whether it be Thorn, the green egg, or any dragon that will be alive in the future. I just want you to be happy. _

She hummed, and stroked her rider's forehead.

_I thank you, little one. _

He patted her on the cheek and then grinned. _But just keep in mind, that if this dragon you choose hurts you in any way, or is not good enough for your magnificence, he will face _me. _I'll beat some sense into the hatchling for ever daring to upset you, the fairest and fiercest dragoness in all of Alagaesia. Do not think that I won't._

Saphira's froze for a second after he said this, and then burst out into dragon-laughter, spitting fire and smoke everywhere. Eragon was hard-pressed to dodge his dragon's accidental fire bursts, but he was laughing too.

When Saphira's mirth subsided, she took a deep breath and turned to face her rider square on.

_Oh Eragon, that would be a hilarious sight indeed. _She said, imagining her dear rider going up against an enormous dragon over fifty times his size.

_But dangerous. _She added more seriously.

_Yes, dangerous, _He agreed, _but I would do anything for you, partner of my heart._

_As would I for you, Eragon. _

With that said, Eragon turned to one of the final memories, which was of his rescue. He looked on as his liberators fought valiantly, and eradicated his captors. Saphira's bloodlust was evident, and Eragon smiled.

_Nothing new there. _He thought, much to his dragon's amusement.

He watched as Saphira caught a fleeing Sarissa in the woods and dragged the struggling witch back to the building. His blood boiled just as his dragon's had when he saw the woman, and he was glad that Saphira was showing no mercy.

Then, the moment his great blue dragoness had been waiting for finally arrived, and he watched through her eyes as Arya emerged from the building with him unconscious in her arms.

And, boy, was he a sorry sight to behold.

He looked _awful._ Wounds were everywhere, littering his body like corpses on a battlefield. Being shirtless, it was obvious for everyone to see his ghastly paleness and skinniness under the grisly image of his injuries. Blood dripped from his body in little rivulets from his numerous wounds, further adding to the disgusting picture that was his body.

Eragon cringed inwardly, as did Saphira in the memory. The great blue dragoness' emotions were spinning wildly, flitting from concern and love for her rider, to anguish at his situation, and then to fury at Sarissa over and over again.

The blue rider watched in anticipation as Arya, Murtagh, Thorn, and Saphira paid their final contemptuous words to his torturer before she was to be executed. His heart warmed when he heard Arya's statement, for it was evident through it that she really cared about him and regretted his capture.

When Saphira finally disposed of the horrendous witch, relief and joy swelled within him, for the most wretched woman he was likely ever to meet was dead at last.

The most recent of Saphira's experiences passed before his eyes, showing him being taken off by the males of the group to be washed and healed. He was confused and slightly embarrassed to see Arya joining them as well, for he did not want a woman to see him undressed. Especially _that_ particular woman. His ears reddened at the thought.

He was quite relieved to see through his dragoness' eyes Arya return shortly after carrying him to the river, and his embarrassment disappeared.

When Saphira offered to ride with Arya, Eragon was surprised to feel a little bit jealous. What was going on? _He_ was the only one who got to fly with Saphira. Hiding his thoughts from his dragoness, he pondered the emotion he was feeling and tried to stifle it.

_Saphira just needed a companion, that's all. She and Arya are friends, and I should not feel jealous. I am still her one and only rider. _He rationalized.

Their flight flashed by very quickly and not a lot of detail of what transpired was revealed to him. Realizing Saphira was blocking most of what had been said, his curiosity flared.

They were talking about him. He was sure of it.

But, once again, he respected their privacy and didn't push Saphira for more information, no matter how much he wanted some.

Finally, he came to the last memory. Blodhgarm returned with him newly healed and washed in his arms, the rest of the males following behind him.

Saphira's impatience and excitement was palpable as she ordered Blodhgarm to set him down at her feet for a proper inspection.

He looked good as new, though he was still very pale and too thin. Fresh clothes adorned his body, a huge upgrade from the destroyed and filthy leggings he had worn earlier. He slept more peacefully than before, a very small smile upon his lips.

Saphira asked Blodhgarm if there were any scars, and immediately Eragon's stomach dropped. He already knew the answer before the blue haired elf said it.

Yes, there was. That humiliating brand that labeled him as Sarrisa's, for all of eternity. He remembered how she cast a spell on it that would make the scar permanent, forever binding him to her through his flesh. He shuddered and resisted the urge to look at the said scar, knowing it would just ruin his mood further.

He went back to watching the memory, and felt Saphira's extreme anger at what Sarissa did to him.

He saw the confrontation with Arya when the green-eyed elf tried to comfort the dragoness, and noticed how Saphira's rage scared those watching. Then, regret, when she came back to her senses.

Guilt flowed through the Saphira in the present.

_I yelled at green-eyes when she was just trying to help me. I was a terrible friend. _The blue dragoness said, eyes downcast.

_Oh Saphira, don't feel guilty! You apologized right?_

_Well yes—_

_Then what's there to feel guilty about? Arya knows you were very upset at that moment, and she does not hold it against you. You are fine, Saphira. _

_I suppose you're right. _Saphira relinquished, _Thank you, little one. You always seem to make me feel better._

_I could say the same about you. _Eragon replied, smiling.

Returning his attention to the memory, Eragon watched as Saphira gently picked him up in her jaws and retreated to lay down under a nearby tree. Then, she put him under her wing, and closed her eyes, thus ending the memory.

Eragon came back to himself and opened his eyes, looking at his dragoness.

_Well now I'm finally caught up. _He said. _I'm so sorry we've had to be apart for so long, Saphira._

_It is okay, little one. I'm sorry too._

_I suppose it's time you should see what's happened to me over the past two weeks, but I assure you, you won't like it very much. _He said, resigned.

_I wish to see it anyway. I need to know what Sarissa has done to you._

Nodding grimly, he gathered his memories and sent them to Saphira's mind.

The young dragoness wasted no time and quickly started perusing his experiences. Her emotions were easy for her rider to read as she looked on through his memories. However, when the scene with Thorn came up, they became indecipherable to Eragon. Much to his surprise, he thought he could detect a bit of jealousy, but before he had time to puzzle it out, his friend had already moved on to the next memory and the moment passed.

Eventually, Sarissa entered the picture, inevitably starting to harm Eragon, and Saphira let out a low hiss. The tortures got worse, and the present day Eragon could tell Saphira was very upset. Concern, anger, sadness, and love radiated from the dragoness' consciousness, almost bringing tears to Eragon's eyes with the potency of it all.

A whimper slipped through Saphira's teeth when she saw a particularly gruesome torture done to her rider, and Eragon winced along with the memory. Sarissa had taken a hammer and viciously broken every bone is right arm, as well as slowly pouring seithr oil on it afterwards to add to the agony.

Eragon of course had promptly passed out, for his body could not take so much pain, so he was not conscious when his heart stopped. Sarissa told him afterwards when he woke up that one of his arm bone fragments entered his blood vessels and stopped his heart. She was hard pressed to save him from dying, and on top of that, she had to meticulously and carefully heal his shattered bones in order for something like that to never happen again.

She wasn't very happy with him after that, even though it wasn't his fault that she almost killed him.

According to the witch, to pay her back for all of the hard work she did on him, he was to give her one tooth.

Then, without giving Eragon even the barest of forewarnings she cast a spell to keep him still, and proceeded to brutally take out one of his molars. She theorized that since it was the biggest, it would cause the most pain, which was a correct assumption in Eragon's opinion.

After that, Sarissa told him she was tired after all her _gracious _efforts that day, and left. Eragon was left hanging by his chains, with a throbbing and bloody mouth, a horribly burned right arm, and hundreds of other equally awful wounds.

Saphira was extremely distraught when she watched the scene play out, and her dismay did not fade for a long while.

The next memory she saw was of Murtagh and Eragon's conversation. When she saw how Murtagh eased Eragon's pain and gave him hope once more, thankfulness grew inside her.

_My opinion of your half brother has risen very much indeed. _She said to her rider.

_Mine too. _Eragon replied.

Many pain-filled and horrible memories later, Saphira finally caught up to the present. She turned to her rider and looked at him so mournfully, he thought she would break out in tears.

_Oh Eragon…_She whispered, _You have endured so much. I am so sorry. _She shook her head, and closed her eyes briefly. _It is a miracle you did not go crazy. A lesser man would have broken under such tortures, but you held strong. You are truly a wonderful person, Eragon. The best in all the land._

Eragon blushed, and patted her neck. _I thank you, great one. But I wish you to know that I did not break because of _you_. _You_ are the one that I thought of in the times of my greatest misery and agony. You have kept me strong, Saphira. _

_I love you, little one._

_I love you too Saphira._

Their reunion complete, and their memories exchanged, the rider and dragon finally gave their attention to their surroundings and froze at what they saw.

Everyone who had come to rescue Eragon, with the exception of Murtagh and Thorn, was standing congregated before the blue pair, staring with their eyebrows raised.

Eragon nervously cleared his throat, and addressed everyone.

"Well…Hi there everyone! I'm, uh, awake now." He laughed uncomfortably.

Arya shook her head, smiling. "Hello Eragon. It's good to see you back on your feet." She said warmly.

The others said similar greetings, and Eragon's embarassment diminished somewhat.

"So how long were Saphira and I talking?" He asked, a bit fearful of the answer.

"Around an hour. Both of you were just standing there, eyes closed for much of it, but occasionally you guys would open your eyes and interact physically while still speaking to each other mentally. It was actually quite amusing to watch." Blodhgarm replied, his golden eyes flashing above his grin.

Eragon half groaned-half chuckled, and Saphira snorted.

_It was that long? _She asked incredulously.

"Indeed it was. Your reunion took up much of the morning." Wryden pitched in.

Eragon's eyes appraised the sky and confirmed that the sun had almost reached its zenith.

He smiled and shook his head. Time had certainly flew.

He returned his eyes to the group standing in front of him, and was immediately filled with immense gratitude and joy as he fully came to understand all that everyone had done for him.

Emotion clogged his voice, and he cleared his throat.

"Thank you all for coming to my aid and killing Sarissa. I cannot even begin to convey how much this means to me. I have very good friends in all of you, and I owe my life to each and every one of you." He said sincerely.

"It is of no consequence Eragon," Arya replied. "You are the savior of the Varden, as well as a friend to all of us. Saving you was the least we could do in payment for your sacrifice."

Touched, Eragon twisted his hand over his sternum and bowed his head.

"Thank you agai—" he began, but was interrupted by Angela.

"We deserve more than a 'thank you' if you ask me!" She exclaimed. "Solembum and I trekked halfway across Alagaesia to save your sorry butt, and all we get is a thank you?! Puh-lease."

Eragon froze, shocked, as did everyone else.

After a moment of tense silence, Angela suddenly burst out laughing.

"Ahahahahaha—your—faces—pricesless!" She guffawed, chuckling between every word.

Everyone hesitantly broke out into smiles, relieved and amused.

When her laughter was under control, Angela straightened up and walked closer to Eragon.

Despite himself, his heart beat much faster than it did before as the witch approached him, and a bit of fear coarsed through him. He quickly dismissed the irrational panic and calmed himself.

_I'm not with Sarissa anymore. _He repeated to himself. _I'm safe now. I'm safe now._

Either Angela didn't notice his brief bout fear, or she pretended not to. However, Saphira did, and she eyed him worriedly. From the corner of his eye he saw Arya do the same.

"Oh Eragon I was just messing with you. Solembum and I were _glad_ to save you. It was actually quite fun!" Angela said, her eyes alight with mischievousness.

The blue rider let loose a breath of air he had been holding and smiled as well.

"It's good to see you too, Angela!" He chuckled.

Everyone laughed, and Angela patted him on the cheek.

Unfortunately, he couldn't stop himself from flinching. He instantly took a step back, his body acting on its own accord. Everyone's laughter quickly ended as they saw what happened.

Angela's smile faded and she took also took a step back.

After a pause, she spoke."I'm very sorry, Eragon, I didn't mean to scare you. I forgot what being tortured for almost two weeks does to a person." The witch said softly, her voice suddenly serious.

Eragon let out a shaky laugh and the tips of his ears turned red.

"It's fine." He said. "I'm just…not really myself right now. After what happened."

"Do not worry, Eragon. We understand." Yaela replied, speaking for the whole group.

The blue rider nodded, and looked down.

"I thank you for that." He said.

_Oh little one. _Saphira said, nuzzling Eragon's hair.

Just then, Eragon's stomach growled very loudly, to his extreme embarrassment.

Everyone laughed once again, and the mood lightened.

"How about we get some food in the great rider?" Illia, one of the elves said, smiling.

Mioris, another of the elves, gestured for Eragon to follow him to the food bags.

The rider gratefully accepted the food from the elf and sat down. The others followed suit, for it was around lunch time, or so they said. Eragon suspected that no one was particularly hungry, but they just wanted to keep him company while he ate.

When the meal was finished, Eragon asked the question that had been on his mind ever since he opened his eyes from his and Saphira's reunion.

"Where are Murtagh and Thorn?" He asked Arya, the closest of those sitting near him besides Saphira.

"They said they needed some time alone before the journey back to the Varden." She replied, her eyes flashing. It was evident she still did not trust the red pair.

"Oh." Eragon said. "They have sworn to join us, haven't they?"

"Yes, they did. But they have yet to earn my full respect."

Eragon nodded, thinking. It worried him that she had still not forgiven the crimson dragon and his rider, even after all they had done in rescuing him. If she could not pardon the duo for their past crimes, then he doubted the rest of her race could. He resolved to talk to her later.

Just then, it occurred to him that he still did not have his belt of Beloth the Wise or Brisingr. Panicked, his mind entertained the awful possibilities of where they could be.

"Arya—did you happen to find Brisingr or my belt when you rescued me?" He asked worriedly.

She nodded and walked over to where Saphira's saddle had been deposited on the ground where she reached into one of the bags. A few seconds later she returned with both items.

"When we arrived at the first building you were held in we found them. It seems that all of the gems have been untouched." She handed them to him and he accepted them gratefully.

The second his hands met the hilt of his sword a steady calm washed over him. He was finally reunited with his blade and not so defenseless anymore. He put on Beloth the Wise and then attached Brisingr to it. Immediately the familiar weight on his hip put him to ease.

Sporting a toothy grin, he turned to Arya. "Thank you so much. I thought I would never see these again."

She gave him a small smile and then turned away to continue packing her things for the journey.

Sighing, he leaned back in the grass and closed his eyes. Freedom at last. He felt great, better than he had in a long, long while.

Saphira, who was lying behind him, arched her neck so her head was directly over his. She sighed as well, her warm breath flowing over her rider's face.

_It is very good to be with you again at last. _He murmured to her, opening his eyes.

_I agree. But soon we will have to make the long journey back to the Varden, and rejoin the war. _

_Aye. But we will have Murtagh and Thorn on our side now, as well as the green egg. Things are turning up, Saphira._

_Indeed they are, little one. _She hummed contentedly.

A voice reached his ears, snapping him out of his mental conversation with Saphira.

"Eragon? Eragon!"

His eyes looked to the source and he saw a concerned Arya staring back at him.

"Oh, hello, Arya. I apologize, I was just speaking to Saphira."

Arya nodded and smirked. "I see that. You always gain that glazed look in your eyes, and you cease to hear anything of what people in the real world are saying to you."

Eragon laughed, slightly embarrassed. "Yes, that's exactly what happens." He agreed. "Was there something in particular you wanted to ask me?"

"Yes, I just wanted to inform you that we will be leaving in ten minutes. It is nigh on time for us to rejoin the war."

Eragon shivered at the eery similarity between her words and Saphira's earlier ones.

"Aye." He said softly. "It is time."

**Author's Note (again!): Hope you enjoyed the chapter everyone. As a rationale, it was just a chapter to show Eragon's reunion with everyone. Next chapter is when the fun begins. Hopefully I'll finish it very soon for you guys, because I've already gotten a chunk of it done. **

**Please review if you can, because it literally brightens my day when you do, and don't you want to brighten the day of a random fourteen year old girl in NY? You can boast to your friends about it afterwards, and be all like "I brightened the day of a random New Yorker named Rachel! I feel so good about myself!" **

**Maybe I'm getting too carried away…oh well. Keep your eyes open for the next chapter, it's comin' soon!**


	10. the Varden

**Author's Note: Holy CRAP this chapter was hard. I probably redid this thing four or five times before I was satisfied with it. School started too *suppresses a sob*, as well as the full force of soccer season (football for you non-Americans) so the combination of all these things definitely didn't help in the making of it…Ah well. Hope you enjoy the chappie folks!**

Eragon looked down upon the ground below him and Saphira, watching the world pass by.

Murtagh and Thorn were soaring along beside them, looking happier than they Eragon had ever seen them. Angela and Solembum were with them too, for they insisted not to ride with him and Saphira in order to give them some privacy on their first flight together after what happened. Eragon was grateful for that. He didn't think he could keep up the appearance of being happy for too long.

As soon as they all began the long journey back to the Varden, it was as if a switch went off in Eragon's brain. His joy at his rescue, and his reunion with his friends faded away, only to be replaced with gloom.

He didn't understand why. He _should_ be happy right now, shouldn't he? He's safe now; they have Murtagh and Thorn on their side, as well as the last dragon egg. But the cold feeling still creeped into Eragon's heart nonetheless.

His time with Sarissa weighed heavily upon his mind. It seemed that whenever he closed his eyes memories of his torture would flash within it…of Sarissa, a manic grin upon her face…the gut wrenching agony…the helplessness. Eragon shuddered and closed that part of his mind off from Saphira, not wanting to worry her.

_Little one? _Saphira asked, noticing how he was blocking her. She twisted her head around to face him. _Are you okay?_

_Are you okay? Are you okay? _The words repeated in Eragon's mind over and over again, and he was taken back to a different time, a different place.

-oOo-

"_Are you okay Shadeslayer?" Sarissa simpered, eyeing him with false concern. _

_Eragon sat doubled over in the center of the room, clutching his stomach. The stab wound gushed blood all over the floor, painting it bright crimson._

"_Do you want me to fix that for you, honey?" _

_Eragon snapped his head up and clenched his teeth._

"_No! Don't touch m-" He growled, but too late. Sarissa kicked him viciously in the gut and he gasped, collapsing further onto his stomach. A groan slipped past his lips as the fall jolted his numerous broken bones._

_Sarissa's laughter rebounded within his ears, and then suddenly an agonizing burning sensation erupted all over his back, further adding to the pain of the whip wounds that were already there._

_A scream ripped from his throat and tears flowed freely down his face. Desperately twisting away from the pain, he looked up at his torturer to see what was happening to him._

_Sarissa stood above him holding a flask of some sort of liquid. Seithr oil. Dread coiled in the boy's stomach and he frantically scrambled backwards, but to no avail. His limbs would not obey his will, their bones hopelessly destroyed._

_The witch took another step towards him and tilted the flask towards him, smiling. The liquid flooded out of the opening and onto his stomach. _

_The last thing he remembered before sweet unconsciousness consumed him was the delighted look on Sarissa's face when his howls of agony resumed._

-oOo-

_Eragon?_ His dragon asked again, worry evident in her eyes.

The young rider blinked and looked at Saphira, his face very pale.

_I-I am fine. _He said, letting out a shaky breath. _I'm fine. Just focus on flying._

Saphira looked skeptical, and snorted a small puff of smoke.

_You know you can talk to me, Eragon._

_I know, Saph. _He said, hoping the rare usage of his special nickname for her would convince her he was okay. _But, really, I am alright. I just need some time to think. _

She looked at him long and hard, her vibrant sapphire eyes searching his face.

She huffed, and seemed to give up. _Fine. Speak to me when you are ready._

The blue dragoness gave him some space, withdrawing her consciousness a bit from his. Eragon felt a tinge of hurt coming from her mind before she could hide it, and guilt flowed through him.

He suppressed a sigh and bowed his head over the neck spike in front of him. What was wrong with him? Closing his eyes, he attempted to calm himself, to get rid of this irrational depression that was latching itself onto his heart. He slid into a meditative state and one by one locked away the troubling thoughts that had been plaguing him. He didn't allow himself to feel the sadness, the hopelessness. He didn't allow himself to feel anything.

The days passed like that, of him protecting himself from his dark thoughts and emotions. He knew everyone worried about him. He knew they saw the emotionless and cold man he was becoming, that did not smile or laugh, or even cry. His face was blank, his voice inflectionless, and his eyes dead. He rarely spoke, and if he did, it was only because he had to. The only one who was privy to his true feelings was Saphira. She stayed with him always, her mind a constant companion to his own. She was very aware of what he was going through, and knew there was nothing she could say that would be enough to bring him out of the slump he was in. Every moment the boy was awake, she was there, silently comforting him and trying to gently take down the emotion blocks he had put up. Her rider was broken, and it cut her to the core.

Three days into the journey, Eragon and Saphira were gliding high above the world, taking it slow so the elves on the ground could keep up with them. Eragon was staring off into space, lost in thought when suddenly, a mind touched his.

Despite himself, Eragon flinched and instinctively stabbed harshly into the intruder's mental barriers, sending them away from him. Memories of Sarissa attacking his consciousness and usually gaining access to it because of his severely weakened state arose within his brain, causing his heart to stutter. She had loved to harass his mind, loved having complete control over him and witnessing his innermost thoughts.

The mind flinched back from his attack, but hesitantly came back after a moment. It gently brushed up against his barriers and Eragon recognized it to be Arya. Slightly embarrassed, he granted her access.

_I apologize, Arya Svitkona. I did not know it to be you. _He expected her to be angry, for he had no reason to do that. To his surprise, her consciousness was soft against his own, as if she was afraid to startle him once again.

_Of course it is fine, Eragon. You should not apologize._ She paused. _Our feet are sore, and we are hungry. _She sent him a mental image of her and the elves. _We must rest for a few hours._

_Aye, that would be wise. I will inform Saphira and Thorn. _

_I thank you. _A moment passed, and Arya seemed to grow uncomfortable. When she finally spoke, her voice was a little strained, as if what she was about to say something that was very difficult for her.

_Eragon? Are you doing okay? _She said softly, concern coloring her tone. _Your mind seems…troubled._

The blue rider rubbed his forehead and gave a slight sigh.

_It is of no consequence, Arya. I am fine. Do not worry about me. _Eragon's mouth twitched into a humorless smirk. He was saying that a lot today. He sent a flow of reassurance to the elf woman, but it seemed flat and bogus even to himself.

Arya mentally raised an eyebrow at him and her emotions flared.

_Do not lie to me, Eragon. _She said, her voice low and dangerous. _Don't you dare lie to me._

As soon as the words registered in the blue rider's mind, something broke inside him. It was only for a split second, but it was enough. He slipped up in his efforts to imprison his emotions, and his strong mental wall came down. The tormenting feelings of the past day that he had locked away flooded into Arya's consciousness. The elf woman didn't even have enough time to gasp before Eragon regained himself and slammed the barrier back up.

_Eragon…_She whispered, shocked at the depth of his hurt. But before she had time to get more than that out, he immediately recoiled and shut up even more barriers around his mind. A tense moment passed between the two Shadeslayers.

_I think it's about time I tell the dragons to land, don't you agree? _Eragon finally said, his voice cold. He severed the connection.

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Arya stood frozen, her eyes wide. Eragon's inflectionless tone echoed within her brain, shaking her to the core. The depth of his pain astounded her. He was more traumatized after his torture than she had realized, and now she just made it worse. Oh, why did she have to be so quick to anger like that? Of course Eragon would not want to talk about what happened, just as she did not want to either when she was rescued from Durza. She mentally slapped herself and tried to think of a way she could fix would she just did.

"Arya? Did you tell them to land?" Yaela prodded, snapping her out of her brooding.

She nodded and tried to keep her emotions off her face.

"Is he okay?" The silver haired elf woman asked once more, her tone softer than before.

Arya shook her head, not trusting her voice.

Yaela frowned and put a hand on her shoulder, surprising her.

"He'll come around in time. That was a terrible ordeal he has just been through, and many never recover fully from it. I'm sure you can relate."

Arya lifted her eyes to meet her comrade's.

"Aye. It is." She said quietly.

Yaela gave her a solemn smile and then walked away towards the other elves, who were sitting on the ground replenishing their strength with some food and water. Arya was about to join them too when she heard the dragons land behind her.

Turning, she watched as Eragon slid down from Saphira's back and patted her on the cheek. There seemed to be a flurry of mental conversation, and then the blue dragoness snorted and flew away.

Arya cast her mind out in the direction Saphira flew to see what she could be doing, and realized there was a creek a league to the north.

Switching her attention back to the dragoness' rider, she watched him from the corner of her eyes as he walked to a nearby rock and sat against it. He stared up at the sky, no expression upon his face. Concern for the boy clawed at her heart. She was about to go talk to him, but Murtagh beat her to it.

She couldn't stop herself from listening in.

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Murtagh closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight on his face and the rhythmic beat of Thorn's wings. He felt so light, and…happy. That was the only word for it.

_I am happy. _He thought to himself. A wry smile came to his lips. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think that he would say that. Ever. Murtagh had lived a hard life with few pleasures, but now everything was falling into place.

Thorn, who was listening in on his thoughts, agreed with the red rider.

_I am too, small one. It is a wonderful feeling, this happiness. I do not feel the weight of evil-snake-tongued-oath-breaker-false-king on my back any longer. I feel free._

_All of Alagaesia is open to us now, my friend. _Murtagh replied, then added as an afterthought, _Once Galbatorix is dead, of course._

The crimson dragon's thoughts turned dark, and he let out a small growl.

_Yes, when he is dead. We will never truly be safe until he has been killed. And, oh, I await that day with much impatience. _

Murtagh patted him on the shoulder. _It will come, Thorn, it will come. Now that we have joined the Varden, the rebellion _will_ succeed. It will. He will _die.

Thorn nodded, a quick but strong bob of his head. _He will, small one. _

A lapse fell in the conversation as Thorn decreased his height in the air by several yards to adjust with the changing wind pattern. When he was finished, he spoke.

_What will we do about the hatred of the people of the Varden, Murtagh? _He said, his voice betraying his young and innocent age.

The red rider's mouth twisted into a slight grimace, and he sighed.

_I suppose we will just have to ignore their anger and hope we will not be executed. Trust might come in time once we have proven ourselves as allies._

Thorn's thoughts took on a more solemn note, and he also sighed.

_You are right. I just wish it did not have to be this way._

A mind touched his and Thorn's and interrupted his reply. Surprised, he slammed up more barriers around himself, but then took them down when he realized it was Eragon.

_Hello, brother. _He greeted a little stiffly. He was still unsure of how to act around him, or anyone for that matter. He was not their enemy anymore, but he was definitely not their friend. Maybe the situation was different with Eragon though. His younger brother was extremely forgiving.

Right now, however, the boy seemed very troubled. His mind was cold and featureless, as if he was hiding his feelings away. A tint of depression coated his consciousness, though, so Murtagh knew he was not handling things very well. A wave of pity rose up within him. Eragon did not deserve what Sarissa did to him. He least of all did not.

_Greetings Eragon. _Thorn said.

_Hello. _A pause. _I have been told by Arya that she and the rest of the elves wish to rest. Saphira and I are going to land. You should land as well. _His voice was emotionless, the stark opposite of what it usually is. Worry panged in Murtagh's stomach.

_We will. Thank you. _Thorn replied, pity evident in his mind.

Eragon mentally nodded and withdrew his consciousness. Saphira started diving down to the ground right after, her scales shining brightly in the dying sunlight.

Thorn dove too, and landed beside her on the ground. Murtagh could sense awe in his thoughts.

_You think she's beautiful, don't you? _The red rider questioned, a smile on his lips.

Thorn, who was always very honest, turned to him. His eyes were glistening with a strong emotion.

_She is the loveliest, most glorious, and magnificent creature I have ever laid eyes on. _

Murtagh's smile broadened and he rubbed his dragon's neck.

_I'm glad you think so, Thorn._

Then, he turned to Angela who was snoring softly behind him.

"Angela. Wake up. We've landed." He shook her awake and nodded placatingly at her mumbles of annoyance for being disturbed from her sleep.

Solembum stretched on his lap, his claws digging into Murtagh's legs.

_That was a most uncomfortable nap. _The werecat said, eyeing the rider with distaste.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He replied, and then dumped him onto the ground.

Solembum yowled in surprise, but landed on his feet. Hissing, he glared at Murtagh and told him he would pay for that later. Murtagh just yawned in response.

Angela, now fully awake, laughed heartily. "You sure have guts, young man."

Murtagh helped her down from the saddle and bowed mockingly.

"I thank you."

"And you have wit! You're the opposite of that brother of yours." Angela said jokingly.

Murtagh's grinned and glanced over at Eragon to see if he heard. The boy was leaning against a large rock, staring blank faced up at the sky. He showed no signs of hearing Angela's jests, no signs of hearing anything. Murtagh's grin faded away and concern filled him once more. Walking away from Angela and Thorn, he approached him.

"Eragon?" He asked a bit hesitantly.

The blue rider seemed to come out of a daze as the words left Murtagh's mouth. He blinked twice and shook his head almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to rid himself of a bad dream. When his eyes cleared from whatever horrible vision the red rider had a feeling he just saw, Eragon looked up and met his eyes.

"Yes?" His voice was hollow and weak.

"Are you doing okay?" He questioned gently.

Eragon immediately recoiled and his face hardened.

"I'm fine." He said, his voice cold. "I'm fine."

He stood up and walked away to the direction of the woods, muttering something about needing to be alone.

Murtagh sighed and surprisingly, heard someone echo him. He looked over to where he heard the sigh, and saw Arya standing by the other elves, her ear turned towards where the conversation occurred. Eavesdropping. The elf woman looked after where Eragon had departed into the woods, an unreadable expression upon her face before she turned to look at him. Their eyes met and she gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement that he returned.

They both knew that could've gone better.

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On the fifth day after their departure to the Varden, the whole group was sitting by the fire, resting for the night. The sun had set and the moon had just risen.

Eragon sat leaning against Saphira's foreleg, staring up at the stars. His mind was empty of all things, as was his face. His features betrayed nothing, for there was nothing to betray. He was an empty vessel—the only feelings he had for anyone or anything were for his dragon.

_Eragon? _She asked, and his eyes snapped to hers. Her head was facing him, her striking blue eyes looking deep into his.

_Yes Saphira? _

_I am going flying with Thorn. _She said. _Would you like to come with me? _

Eragon took a second to consider this, and then agreed. He didn't want to sit here for longer than he had to and experience everyone's constant worried glances at him that they thought he didn't see. Arya's most of all.

As soon as the hint of a yes appeared in his mind, Saphira broke out into a wide dragon smile, and then grabbed him with her large paw and put him on her back.

_Let's go then! _She exclaimed, pure excitement running through her. Eragon couldn't help himself, he smiled too. Her joy was contagious.

The great blue dragoness and her rider burst into the sky, spiraling among the twinkling stars. Thorn and Murtagh appeared beside them and the two dragons twisted and turned in a beautiful dance that struck awe into the onlooker's hearts.

Eragon actually felt the barest hints of happiness for the first time in a long while.

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The next day, they reached the Varden.

It was late afternoon when they finally saw the long parade of soldiers, marching towards Belatona where inevitably the next battle would occur. As soon as the members of the Varden caught a glimpse of the party of elves running towards them and the blue dragon in the sky, they cheered for all their worth.

Chants of "Shadeslayer" as well as the thunderous clangs of the soldiers beating their weapons against their armor could be heard for miles around, attesting to the fact that the Varden had hope once more.

Nothing could dampen their spirits

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Thorn looked down upon the cheering members of the Varden and heaved a sigh. He and Murtagh were hiding high up in the sky amongst the clouds, away from the sight of everyone who hates them. Angela and Solembum were not with them, for early that morning they slipped off with only the muttered explanation that something interesting was going on in one of the small towns nearby.

Just then, Eragon contacted him. Thorn quickly took down his mental barriers and allowed him into his mind.

_Yes Eragon-friend? _He asked. The boy's consciousness was still utterly empty of emotions and feelings. Thorn felt a pang of worry deep in his gut. He was a broken rider, just like Murtagh had been all those months ago.

_There is a small grouping of trees a little a ways to the west. You can rest there until it is time to reveal yourselves. _The boy replied.

The crimson dragon sent his understanding through the link, and Eragon withdrew from his consciousness.

Murtagh, who had been listening in on the conversation, sighed.

_Soon we must confront them. _The man said, reluctant.

_Aye. We must. _He replied, not trying to hide his apprehension.

His rider sent a wave of reassurance to him, comforting him.

_Don't worry, Thorn. We'll get through this. _

Thorn nodded, but still held onto his fear. _I hope._

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Nasuada felt better right then than she had ever felt. As soon as she saw the great blue shape of Saphira appear over the horizon, hope was fully renewed in her. And when the dragoness landed and the Varden's one hope dismounted and instantly was surrounded by everyone in the vicinity, she couldn't keep the smile off her face. Of course she knew that Eragon was alive and healthy already before that point, for the elves had scryed her right after their success, but seeing him in person really made it real for her. He was back.

She hurried towards him, parting those in her way as easily as a wolf does when making its way through a herd of sheep. "Eragon." She said warmly when she reached him.

"Greetings, my lady." He replied, bowing. When he straightened, she got her first good look at him. Her smile faded a little. He looked thin and pale, not fully recovered from his ordeal at the hands of Sarissa. But beyond that, he looked…off. His normally warm brown eyes were cold and dead. His face showed no emotion, and his smile looked forced.

"It's great to see you again, Eragon." She told him sincerely, though there was an undercurrent of regret in her voice. It was partly her fault he was captured and tortured in the first place. "And I thank you for your sacrifice." She added softly.

Eragon looked down and nodded, but said nothing. Saphira nuzzled him and a short mental conversation seemed to ensue. Giving them their privacy, Nasuada turned her attention towards the young rider's approaching guards. Arya was at the group's front, looking more out of sorts than Nasuada had ever seen her.

She greeted the elves, paying special attention to their obvious exhaustion.

"Candler!" She called out to one of her Nighthawks. The man hurried to her side.

"Yes, my lady?" He answered obediently, though his eyes kept flitting to the newly returned blue rider.

"Fetch fourteen meals with no meat for our travelers, as well as a cow for Saphira. Deliver them to my pavilion which will be set up right there," She pointed to a spot close by, "in a half an hour." She commanded.

Candler's eyes widened at the elves, obviously surprised at their diet.

"Candler!" Nasuada repeated, snapping the man's attention back to her.

"Oh, I apologize my lady, I will get right on that." He replied, already backtracking away.

Nasuada sighed and returned her attention to the newcomers.

"Shall we meet in the pavilion in a half an hour's time to discuss what has transpired these past two weeks?" She asked them.

"I suppose the decision has already been made for us, hasn't it?" Arya replied, amusement within her voice.

The dark-skinned leader laughed and nodded. "You caught me." She joked.

The elves laughed lightly with her, but Eragon remained silent. Nasuada tried her hardest to keep the worry for the boy off her face.

A half an hour's time came and went. Nasuada spent it casually chatting with the few elves that did not leave to relieve themselves. Eragon and Saphira had disappeared, the latter with his head down as if he didn't want the ogling members of the Varden to see his face. She hoped they would be back in time for the meeting.

When her pavilion was finally set up all the elves suddenly emerged beside it. They gracefully slinked from the depths of the crowd setting up their tents for the night, like cats on the prowl. Saphira appeared in the sky, approaching the tent. As she got closer, Eragon was seen upon her back.

Nasuada walked to the pavilion, her guards providing a constant but protective wall around her. Saphira landed and everyone filed into the tent, taking their seats. The blue dragoness shoved her head through the pre-made hole in the fabric to participate in the meeting.

As soon as everyone was settled, Candler and several other men arrived to deliver Eragon and the elves' meals. One was also dragging a cow behind him for Saphira.

"Oh, I apologize, Saphira. Do you want us to halt the meeting until you are finished?" Nasuada asked the dragoness.

_No, that is not necessary. I will listen through Eragon. _

The dark skinned leader nodded and Saphira withdrew her head. Nasuada then turned her attention to the boy she wanted to hear from most.

"Eragon. Would you like to tell us your view of the past two weeks?" She hesitantly asked, wary of how he would handle it. "I understand if it's hard—" He cut her off.

"No. I'm fine." He said, no emotion within his voice. He began his narrative.

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Eragon almost sighed before he began speaking. Though he didn't show it, he dreaded having to recite what had happened. His stomach twisted at having to revisit the painful memories of his torture which he tried so hard to bury. Saphira sent a wave of comfort to him, aware of how he was suffering inside.

He started from the very beginning, from when he and Saphira first set out to rescue the green egg. He was blunt and concise, trying not to show his discomfort. Bringing up his experiences wasn't exactly helping in his task of keeping his emotions under control however. Especially when he spoke of Sarissa. He described his tortures quietly, voice detached. The sting of all that had happened still affected him, and he worked his hardest not show that to his listeners. Though his listeners weren't exactly hiding their horror at his words either. Nasuada sat very still, stricken at the extent of his suffering. The elves were acting similarly, dismay written all over their features. Arya in particular was very pale. Her concerned green eyes never left his. He would've blushed if he still felt things like that anymore. But he didn't. He barely felt anything anymore.

Saphira, who had finished her meal and had her head through her hole in the wall, snorted in discomfort. She hated listening to this as much as he did saying it. Eragon suppressed a sigh once again.

When he told of how Murtagh and Thorn changed their true names and aided in is rescue, Nasuada's eyes widened in surprise, but a slight smile adorned her face.

_Happy now, Nasuada? _He thought bitterly to himself. _Now you'll have _two _riders, and _two _dragons to use as weapons. _

In terse words, he summed up the rest of his story. Now caught up to the present, the blue rider sat back in his chair and awaited his liege lord's judgment.

Nasuada was speechless, a seeming first for the young woman. When she finally did get her words back, her voice almost had a tremble to them.

"Eragon…I am deeply sorry for what you have had to endure. What Sarissa has done to you—it was awful. Again, I thank you dearly for your sacrifice." She said, words heartfelt. Pausing, she took a deep breath. "What were the extent of your wounds? I would like to know." She said quietly.

Blodhgarm helpfully responded in Eragon's steed, knowing that the boy would most likely not want to speak any longer of it.

"It was very bad, Lady Nightstalker. I'd rather not say any more than that."

Humbled, Nasuada nodded. "I understand." Another pause. "Where are Murtagh and Thorn now?" She asked, curious.

Eragon spoke up. "I told them to stay in the thicket of trees about a mile west of us until there would be a good time for them to reveal themselves."

"I see. Would that time be now, do you think?"

"Aye. But before they come, you must assemble the Varden and explain what is going on so they do not lose control when the red pair appears. Tell them the truth. Make it clear to them that Murtagh and Thorn have truly escaped the King's grasp and are here as allies. They are friends to us now. Do not let this go unheard." The blue rider replied, his voice strong.

Nasuada nodded. "It shall be done. When I give you the signal, tell Thorn to come."

Everyone prepared to leave, eager to bathe and wash the grime of traveling from their bodies. As Eragon was about to exit the tent, he suddenly thought of something he needed to know. Before anyone could leave, he spoke.

"Where is the green egg?" He asked Nasuada.

"I will tell you, but you must promise to swear that you will not divulge the information to anyone else." The woman replied, eyeing him and the rest of the elves. Her eyes met Saphira's as well.

They all swore in the ancient language that they would not.

"It is hidden within my horse's saddle bags with a powerful spell around it so if anyone comes within ten feet of it they will suddenly forget what they are doing and then walk in the opposite direction. Arya set the spell before she departed to rescue you, so she should be able to take it down I suppose." She looked towards the elf woman for confirmation. Arya nodded and Nasuada resumed speaking. "I will take you to it right now if you'd like."

"Yes." He replied quietly.

Nasuada led them all through the exit of the tent and to the direction of where the horses were being kept. They easily found the Varden leader's roan charger amidst the other horses, picketed next to a tub of water and a large patch of grass. His saddle and saddlebags were beside him.

Suddenly, as Eragon drew close to the large horse, following Nasuada, his mind grew fogged. What was he doing again? His thoughts in the clouds, he dazedly turned around and walked back towards the tents. Dimly, he saw that the other elves were beside him. But not Saphira…Where was Saphira? He couldn't seem to remember…

"—Hey! Snap out of it." A voice interrupted the fog over his brain and he looked back. Nasuada, Saphira and Arya were looking at him and the elves. "Arya is taking the spell down now so you will be able to come over in a minute." Oh right! The spell! Eragon's thoughts came back to him and awe filled him. That was one powerful spell indeed. He hadn't even known what was happening. But apparently it wasn't strong enough to subdue Saphira.

_You did not feel the effects of the spell? _He asked his dragon.

She snorted, smug. _Of course I _felt _it, but it was not enough to distract my mind. We dragons are powerful. A simple spell cannot divert us. _

He nodded and almost smiled in amusement. Almost. It was just a twinge of his lips, for emotion could barely reach him anymore. Not after what happened.

Arya completed taking down the spell and beckoned them over. Battle-storm whinnied uncomfortably as the mass of people crowded around him, along with a dragon.

Nasuada reached down into the saddlebag, and then, making sure no one else was anywhere in the vicinity, revealed the green egg.

Eragon nearly gasped at the magnificence of it. It was around the same size as Saphira's was, but maybe a tiny bit smaller. It shimmered in the sunlight like an emerald, casting beautiful speckles of green lights onto the onlookers. Eragon had to admit, it was a dazzling sight to behold, but not as amazing as Saphira's egg was. He much preferred blue.

His dragoness hummed in contentment as she listened to his thoughts. _Thank you little one. _

Eragon's heart warmed the slightest bit, and he felt a sliver of joy and hope. Perhaps thing would turn up after all. Perhaps.

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Arya looked upon the emerald egg with reverence. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. A strange emotion grew inside her. Bidden by some unknown instinct, she reached her hand out to stroke the shell. It was smooth and warm, and as soon as her finger made contact, it seemed like all her worries melted away. She felt calm and content, like everything in the world was in its right place.

She was slowly tracing the faint veins that were visible on the shell when suddenly a sharp crack echoed throughout the clearing. Flinching, Arya stepped back in surprise, as did everyone else. Nasuada put the egg on the ground and backed away slowly, seeing something that the others did not see. Looking closer, Arya saw a large fissure in the egg's shell walls. Another crack resounded and the fissure grew bigger, revealing a small emerald eye that was staring right at her.

Arya gasped. The egg was hatching. The egg was hatching! Her thoughts in a wild rush, she approached the green hatchling that was making its way out into the world and knelt down beside it.

The little dragon finally rid himself of his confining green husk and made his way straight for Arya.

As if in a dream, Arya dazedly reached her hand out to the hatchling. He connected his head to her palm.

A jolt of electricity immediately blazed through her, the worst pain she had ever felt since her time with Durza accompanying it. The last thing she saw was the little green face of the one who her life was now bound to.

_My dragon_. She whispered to herself. The world went black.


	11. The Battle

Arya woke with a start, her heart beating wildly. Opening her eyes, she looked up and saw the dull canvas of her tent. She began to sit up but stopped when she saw the small, curled up form of the green dragon hatchling upon her lap, a half eaten hunk of meat between his paws. Warmth flooded through her as she watched him sleep.

_My dragon. _She said to herself almost incredulously, caressing the word within her mind.

Rubbing the fatigue out of her eyes she looked around the tent and almost jumped when she saw Eragon in the chair opposite the bed. His head was bowed, and he seemed to be sleeping. He had noticeably cleaned up, his dark brown hair made darker with the wetness from bathing. His thin, beaten up frame was adorned with new clothes, most likely a gift from one of his many adoring fans in the Varden.

Saphira's shadow was visible outside the tent fabric, appearing to be asleep as well.

Touched that they would stay here waiting for her, a slight smile rose to her lips.

"Eragon." She called out softly.

His eyes flashed open and Arya got the feeling that he had not actually been asleep. He looked exhausted. Dark circles nestled beneath his deep brown eyes and he was still unnaturally pale. With the sharp movement of his head, a bundle of hairs slipped from the ranks of the rest and fell over his brow in front of his eye. Arya fought the urge to brush it away, bewildered at herself.

She couldn't help but be reminded of the conversation with Angela about him, and how the witch seemed to think a relationship would form between them. Suppressing a sigh, the elf pushed the thought away.

_I'm pathetic. _She thought, disgusted with herself.

"Yes?" He replied in that same dead voice she had begun to grow accustomed to. Concern once again for the boy's, no, _man's_-for after all this Eragon had matured enough to rightfully call himself a man-mental state arose within her mind, and she resolved to try and talk to him later that day. But for now, she pushed the thought away and concentrated with the astounding matter at hand.

"I-I'm a dragon rider…" She said almost to herself, still dazed at the enormity of it all.

A ghost of a smile appeared on his lips.

"Yes, yes you are."

She looked down at her palm and saw the gedwey ignaesia shining back at her. A true rider's palm. _Her_ palm.

Her eyes flitted back up to his.

"How long was I…unconscious?" She asked hesitantly.

"Only a couple hours." He replied reassuringly.

"What did I miss?"

Eragon took a deep breath and Arya braced herself for a long story. He began his narrative.

"A lot, actually. As soon the hatchling touched her palm, the magic sealed the bond and sent you into unconsciousness. I set up your tent and then carried you to it," Arya fought off a blush, "while Blodhgarm brought your dragon over too. Then Nasuada assembled the Varden and relayed the news of you and him," He gestured towards the sleeping dragon on her lap, "as well as the switched allegiance of Murtagh and Thorn." His eyes darkened. "Their arrival, however, was still tarnished by the anger of those who could not see past their hatred. Nasuada and I tried our best to calm the crowd, but it wasn't until Murtagh stepped forward to speak where there was truly silence. He spoke the truth, and tried to convey his message of peace to the best of his abilities. Hopefully our efforts will be enough to at least last the war."

Arya let loose a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and nodded.

"What would be your estimation of the Varden's morale after today's events?" She asked, worried about how deep this animosity towards the red pair ran in the men.

Eragon paused and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache.

"I would say that everyone is almost beyond themselves with renewed glee and hope, but distrust of Murtagh and Thorn still lingers within their hearts. I do not think it is anything to be concerned about, however. The honorability in my brother and Thorn will become obvious eventually."

As soon as he finished speaking, the familiar yet powerful mind of Saphira pressed against her barriers, asking for entrance. She granted it, noticing through the tent fabric how the shadow of the dragoness' head was now raised from the ground.

_Hello, green-eyes. _The blue dragoness greeted warmly. _How does it feel to have finally joined the ranks of dragon riders?_

Arya smiled, her eyes lightening. "Wonderful, yet overwhelming. I myself still can hardly believe it, even with the weight and sight of my new dragon upon my lap."

Saphira's rough chuckle could be heard outside the tent.

_Acceptance will come soon, green eyes. _

Just then, as if he had sensed he was being spoken of, the emerald hatchling opened his golden-amber eyes. Seeing his rider now awake, he let out an excited squeak and scrambled to his feet, unraveling his small green wings in the process.

"SQUAK!" He conveyed in baby dragon language, eliciting a delighted laugh from his rider.

Their eyes met and Arya suddenly felt very light and warm, like nothing could touch her. She tentatively reached her mind towards his and then their consciousnesses connected. The whole world seemed to shift. The hatchling's mind wove into hers expertly, like two puzzle pieces meant to be together. Suddenly, her mind wasn't her own anymore. It was half of someone else's, the partner of her soul. Everything he felt, she felt. Everything he saw and heard, she saw and heard. She almost gasped at the brilliance of it all.

She's not Arya anymore, she concluded. She was Arya plus a dragon, and that was a very different Arya indeed.

_Hello, tiny one. _She cooed within his mind. At her words, the hatchling hummed affectionately and touched his snout to her forehead.

Eragon's voice broke the moment, and looking over she saw that he was at the tent's entrance.

"Well…" He said somewhat awkwardly, "I'll leave you two alone. See you later Arya and hatchling." Nodding at the green pair, he left the tent.

After a moment's hesitation, Arya slipped her feet into her boots, scooped her dragon onto her shoulder, and followed him.

As soon as she opened the tent's flap she was met with the soft red light of the sunset casting lazy rays over the Varden, as well as the rapidly cooling air of the evening. Thousands of tents had been set up in the time she had been unconscious, spanning over a mile. Far in the distance, Belatona was to be seen, its gigantic walls allowing it to be visible to the naked eye.

Turning her attention to her nearer surroundings, she observed the usual hustle and bustle of the Varden members as they prepared themselves for dinner and for the night. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Eragon and Saphira walking leisurely down the path between the tents, most likely off to get their supper.

With her dragon stable on her shoulder, she hurried after them to accompany them. She moved to the rider's left side and fell into step beside him.

"I wish to come too. It's time my hatchling has the chance to see the world." She told them.

Eragon glanced towards her and a small smile-if you could call a twitch of the lips a smile-reached his face. "We're going to get dinner." He explained.

She nodded, and they walked in companionable silence. The hatchling was busy kneading his claws into her shoulder, curiously inspecting his environment. His eyes finally fell upon Saphira and the air was subsequently torn by his shrill and frightened squeak.

Startled by the sound, Saphira whipped her head around and her eyes fell upon the hatchling. Blue met gold. Very slowly, as to not frighten the dragon any more, the great blue dragoness lowered her snout to gently touch her green counterpart's. Their noses connected for a second, and then the hatchling rapidly fled into the shelter of Arya's hair to hide.

Fear, excitement, and above all fascination were tumbling around in the young dragon's head. The potency of it all tainted Arya's mind as well and she soon found herself with sweaty palms and a furiously beating heart. Realizing what was happening, the she elf let out a joyous, hearty laugh, like the ringing of wind chimes on a windy day. She disentangled her dragon from her hair and held him in front of her.

"It's okay, tiny one." She calmed him in the ancient language. "Saphira will not hurt you."

Hearing her words, he relaxed somewhat and his breathing slowed. With the approval and guidance from his rider, he stole a peek at the amused blue dragoness above him.

_Greetings, hatchling. _Saphira said gently within his mind. _I am Saphira._

Warmth blossomed in the young dragon's heart, and Arya could feel something close to compassion rising in his emotions. He let out a loud mew in response to her words, as if he was greeting her back. Arya and Saphira laughed merrily, delighted at the innocence and downright cuteness of the little hatchling. Even Eragon's emotionless façade cracked a bit with a grin.

Suddenly, breaking through the evening air, a thundering war horn sounded. The two riders and dragons froze for a second, shocked. There was utter silence throughout the Varden camp for a beat.

Eragon broke into action a second later. Urgency burned bright in his eyes, as well as a cold hard determination. He turned to her.

"Arya. Listen to me. A battle is about to occur, and you _must not_ participate in it. Your dragon is too young for you to leave his side to fight. Sit this one out, Arya." He commanded, voice quick but unwavering.

Her stomach twisted with anger and disappointment. She allowed a resigned sigh fall from her lips, knowing every word he spoke was correct.

"Fine. I will." She said, voice hard. The hatchling shifted uneasily on her shoulder, feeling her distress.

Eragon nodded and turned to sprint away back to his tent to ready himself for battle. Something tugged at Arya's lips and she couldn't allow him to go just yet.

"Eragon—wait." She called, halting his travel. Saphira turned around as well, snorting impatiently.

"What is it, Arya?"

"Stay safe, and fight well. For me. Please." She told him in the ancient language. Worry for him gnawed at her heart relentlessly. He wasn't at his usual strength, and she was well aware of the possibilities of things that could go wrong in battle.

Eragon's face softened and he nodded. Saphira nudged his shoulder.

_I will not let anything ill befall him, green eyes. That you can be sure of. _The dragoness proclaimed vehemently. _But now, we must go! _

The blue pair hurried off back to their tent to prepare themselves for battle, as did the rest of the Varden that surrounded her. Arya stroked her hatchlings forehead worriedly.

"I suppose we must find some place safe, tiny one." She whispered to him, trying her best to calm his distress at all the commotion flurrying around them.

And so, with her little green dragon clutched securely in the crook of her arm, the elf woman went off with as much dignity as she could muster in the opposite direction of the battle, all the while trying to suppress her intense concern for the blue rider and his dragon.

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Eragon's hands moved frantically over his gear, quickly strapping it onto himself. Within only a few minutes of entering his tent he was already prepared for battle, his shining armor protecting him and his wards in place. He heard and felt Saphira stomping impatiently outside the tent.

_Eragon come! We must go, forget about my armor. My wards will guard me well enough. _She urged him.

Torn, he looked towards the space under his cot where he knew Saphira's armor laid. After a moment he sighed and nodded.

"Yes. Let's go." He said with finality, hoping he would not eat his words later. Then without further ado he burst out of his tent, safely cladded in his armor and with Brisingr at his hip. Mounting Saphira, they jumped into the air and assessed the situation before them.

A vast legion of Empire soldiers was approaching frighteningly fast from the direction of Belatona, the light from the now visible stars and moon twinkling off their armor. The Varden however was already prepared. The many ranks of soldiers had quickly readied themselves for battle and were now being assembled by their captains on the battlefield. From the corner of his eye, Eragon noticed the women retreating to the opposite side of the encampment, gathering distance between them and the oncoming battle. Finally, he saw Thorn's glittering red mass hunkered low on the ground behind the Varden soldiers, a familiar group of people circled around him. Saphira angled towards there.

When Thorn saw the great blue dragoness drawing near he moved out of the way for her to land. Eragon didn't bother dismounting once she did.

His guardian elves immediately organized a protective circle around them as soon as Saphira folded her wings in, each giving the blue pair curt nods in acknowledgement.

Nasuada advanced on Battlestorm.

"About time you got here!" She half-teased, but turned serious soon after. "The men of Belatona have decided to go on the offensive rather than be forced to be on the defensive for their city. Our scouts report their numbers to be slightly larger than ours due to the probable arrival of reinforcements from nearby cities, but it is of no concern. I presume the combined might of you two and Murtagh and Thorn will help to even out the playing field, correct?"

Eragon nodded, not trusting his voice to be completely calm. The blood lust was coursing through him already, making him shaky with adrenaline and itching to cause havoc. The Empire would be _eliminated_ for what it has done to him and the people he loved. Saphira growled menacingly, half in reply to Nasuada and half in response to her rider's dark thoughts.

There would be hell to pay this night. Eragon was sure of it.

A mumbled voice to his left interrupted his musings.

"Ha. Combined might? I wouldn't be surprised if those two traitors turned on us all." The voice scoffed.

Eragon's head snapped to the sound and a sudden rush of anger lit his heart on fire. His eyes came upon King Orrin, who quailed under the wrathful blue rider's gaze.

"You do not know of who you speak, little man." He thundered, beyond angry. "Murtagh and Thorn are three times the person you will _ever _be. They have endured much under the control of Galbatorix and have finally achieved the freedom they deserve. If it were you in their position, assuming you could even handle the constant torture Galbatorix administers, the second you became free you would flee to deserted lands, never to be seen again. You would not be here with the very people who despise you, fighting for their liberty. So if I hear one more word out of your mouth, or_ anyone's _for that matter, about these two beings, you will pay. Am I understood?"

The whole congregation went silent, in complete awe and astonishment at Eragon's outburst and first display of emotion in quite a while. Orrin paled, utterly shocked.

"Am I understood?!" Eragon growled again.

The young Surdan leader hastily nodded, obviously frightened and embarrassed. Slightly trembling, the man turned to the red pair and bowed in his saddle, much to everyone's surprise.

"I-I am sorry for doubting you Murtagh, Thorn. I will not do so again." He stuttered.

Murtagh, speechless, could only nod, all the while glancing at his brother in appreciation and amazement. Thorn snorted and shifted uncomfortably.

Deep within his mind, Saphira whispered to him.

_I am proud of you, little one. Those were valiant and well said words. I do not think Orrin will be bothering us anytime soon. _She mentally snorted. _You frightened him out of his prideful delusions. I am truthfully very surprised. _

His anger subsiding, he sent her a wave of amusement. _About damn time he shut his mouth!_

Nasuada ever charismatic, broke the silence. "Well…now that that is out of the way, we have a battle to be fought!" She then rode Battlestorm towards her army, raising her sword above her head.

"People of the Varden! Let us fight!" She hollered, signaling the clash to begin.

The soldiers, hearing their beloved leader's words all emitted fearsome battle cries and ran towards the approaching Belatonians, ready to fight for the freedom of their land.

Orrin slipped away on his horse at Nasuada's departure, his head down and his gaze avoiding Eragon's. He signaled his cavalry to enter the brawl.

Nar Garzthvog and Orik both left as well, leading their respective races into battle. Each of them shot Eragon appreciative looks, proud of the way the blue rider had taken initiative. Eragon hoped Orik would take his words to heart and not be so prejudiced against the red pair in the future, even if they did kill Hrothgar.

Lastly, it was just him and Saphira with the elves, along with Murtagh and Thorn. His brother turned to him.

"Eragon—thank you." He said, still a bit shocked.

"It's nothing." He replied, brushing it off. "I said what needed to be said. Now let's get our revenge."

Thorn and Saphira roared in concurrence and rose into the air. The red dragon flew off towards the battle and made himself known to the Empire, as well as his new allegiance. As soon as he appeared a huge groan seemed to emanate from the opposite side and Eragon could sense a huge wave of confusion and then hopelessness come from them. He smiled viciously and then turned to his guards who were still on the ground.

"Blodhgarm. Saphira and I are going to fight aerially for a while. Battle on the ground for now and we will find you later." He announced.

The blue-black haired elf nodded and gripped his weapon tighter.

"Aye, Shadeslayer. Be safe and fight well."

With that said, Saphira flew away and assessed the now developing battle. The Varden and the Empire had now merged together in a bloody mix so close that he could barely discern between who was a friend and who was a foe. It was all just a huge brawl, each man fighting for his life. Eragon and Saphira's hearts lurched within their chests with anticipation at entering the fight.

_Soon, but not yet. _He told his dragon. _We must first dispose of the magicians. _Then_ we can truly enact our revenge with our sword and claws. _

The blue dragoness harrumphed and gave a sharp nod, continuing to fly above the battle, just high enough to not be reached by arrows.

Eragon reached his mind out for Trianna and was rewarded quickly. The witch was hiding behind the fighting with her fellow magicians, their minds connected and searching for the enemy.

As soon as his consciousness met theirs they all greeted him exuberantly.

_Argetlam! _Trianna welcomed, relieved. _We need your help. We've found an enemy but his blasted barriers are somehow too strong for us._

Needing no further words, the blue rider and his dragon located the mind of the magician they were speaking off and easily crushed it. Eragon's bloodlust was further spurred on by the man's desperate pleas for life. He no longer felt pity for any of the Empire's supporters, willing or not. Not after what happened.

Before he knew it, an hour slipped by, proven by the complete rising of the moon and stars. The Du Vrangr Gata killed many enemy magicians with the strength of he and Saphira behind them. But now Eragon's need for violence against the Empire could not be sated by merely using his mind. He needed to use his sword.

_It is time. _He told Saphira. _Almost all of the Empire's magicians have been exterminated. Trianna can handle the rest._

At his words, immense enthusiasm sprung from his dragon's mind and with a mighty roar, she dove towards the battle on the ground. They pierced through the air like a spear, striking terror into the onlooker's hearts. When it seemed they were just about to hit the ground and the soldiers thereof, Saphira pulled up from the dive. The soldiers underneath them cowered in fear before the blue dragoness baked them all within their shells of armor with a gigantic blast of fire.

Soaring at a shallow height over the top of the battle and all the while spitting fire onto the men below them, Saphira and Eragon searched for the elves. It wasn't long until their sharp eyesight located the distinct blue fur of Blodhgarm, surrounded by Empire solders and his Elvin comrades. His face was screwed into a perpetual snarl, gleaming white fangs visible beneath his lips and his shining golden eyes alight with the thrill of battle.

Saphira dove to the meet their guards, and as soon as the enemy saw her giant form approaching quickly from above, they scrambled like rats out of the way, screaming for their lives. The ones who were too slow were flattened.

In the seconds he knew they had before the Empire soldiers attacked them again, Eragon quickly dismounted and the elves immediately went into a protective formation around him.

"Greetings Shadeslayer." Wyden said, and the others followed suit. Eragon returned the hello as he briefly assessed their injuries and noticed that all were minimal. Satisfied, he turned to his dragoness and put his hand on her cheek.

"Let us dance, friend of my heart." He told her, a fierce excitement layering his tone. She snorted in response and touched her nose to his forehead.

_Let us dance. _She replied, and then they merged their minds together to the greatest degree possible. They became one single entity—the perfect fighting pair, ready to further wreak destruction upon the Empire.

They turned as one to meet their enemies. Barely noticing the elves fighting around them, Eragon and Saphira smote the men in their path. Tooth and claw ripped through rank after rank. Fire blazed from their lips, burning their enemies alive. Brisingr glowed bright through the red of the blood painted on it, setting a slightly purplish cast upon its deadly wielder. No one had time to notice it, however, for as soon as the blue pair came into view, death was immediate.

Their speed and prowess crippling those who challenged them, the Shadeslayer and the dragoness were a lethal force on the battlefield.

The moon rose high within the sky and the hours slipped by. It was a constant tiring battle, with very few breaks. He and Saphira were efficient killing machines with bounds of strength at their disposal, but after a while even the most perfect of warriors can falter. As their strength faded Eragon had to take down their wards, knowing they would now have to rely solely on their physical defenses from then on. He found that more and more often the Empire's soldiers were slipping past their defenses and giving them small wounds—a slice on Saphira's paw, a cut on Eragon's leg. The wounds piled up and soon each movement they made was laced with pain and soreness.

The elves were feeling the eventual fatigue as well. Whenever Eragon looked at one of his guards he was dismayed by tiring looks upon their faces, as well as the increasing number of injuries upon their bodies.

Worry, the first emotion besides blood lust since the battle started, entered the blue pair's mind. As one, they decided to pull out of the fight for a moment to rest as well as survey how it was going from an aerial view.

Saphira flattened a whole line of approaching soldiers with her tail, providing herself room to take off into the air. Her rider bounded from her shoulder to the saddle in a heartbeat and then they were off, leaving the bloodstained ground beneath them. Hundreds of feet above the battlefield the two observed the clash and took in losses.

The Belatonians, no matter the original superior size of their army, were sorely outmatched. From the point of view of the clouds Eragon and Saphira could plainly see that in the coming minutes the rest of the Empire soldiers would be eradicated. Already the remaining men from Belatona were being surrounded on all sides by the Varden. Far below them, the blue pair noticed the unmistakable crimson bulk of Thorn fighting alongside his rider.

A smile reaching his lips, Eragon patted Saphira on the shoulder.

_The day is won_, They triumphantly but exhaustedly thought together, and then dove once again to the battle, ready to finish it completely.

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Several hours later, under the surprisingly bright light of the moon and stars, and amid the noxious fumes of death, the blue rider trudged through the battlefield taking in losses. Roran was at his side, for the two had immediately sought each other out after the battle, and Saphira was flying above their heads. His Elvin guards were a respectful but still protective distance behind them, ready to sprint to his aid if need be.

But little did anyone know that it was not nearly protective enough of a distance.

As the two walked in companionable silence, helping the prone Varden soldiers on the way, neither of them were paying quite enough attention to their surroundings. Eragon was hunched over a groaning Varden soldier with a broken back, deeply immersed in his healings. Roran, just having put a dying horse out of its misery grimly approached the blue rider to see if he could help.

The figure shrouded all in black who appeared almost out of thin air in front of the two cousins was only first noticed by the elves, whose immediate shouts of warning were already much too late. The figure drew the bow from his back and nocked an arrow at Eragon before the rider even had a chance to look up. Roran, realizing what was happening, took no time to open his mouth and shout a warning as the elves had. He didn't even think. He just acted.

The arrow was let loose with deadly precision, heading straight for Eragon's heart.

The unmistakable sound of metal slicing through flesh instantly filled the rider's keen ears, a soft groan of pain accompanying it. But it was not his. Roran stood staggering directly in front of him, an arrow pierced straight through his chest and out the other side.

Eragon's whole world seemed to narrow around that one bloody arrow point sticking out from the grimy armor of his cousin's back, and he felt no emotion besides shock for one split moment. Absolute fury as realization dawned upon him was its close second.

The word exploded out of his mouth as quick as a cobra strike.

"_NO_!" He boomed, the poignant denial seeming to echo over the battlefield.

He was on his feet within a fraction of a second and sprinting towards the man who did this. No thoughts were in his mind besides the need to _kill_, to eliminate and destroy the heinous bastard that wiped away the future of an innocent man with one cruel releasing of an arrow.

The man was attempting to escape but was easily overtaken by the angered half-Elvin rider. In just three seconds Eragon had covered the many meters between him and the culprit, running faster than he had ever run before. He tackled the man viciously from behind and they both landed roughly on the ground beneath them.

Eragon immediately flipped the man over onto his back. As soon as the offender's face came into view Eragon brutally punched it over and over and over again, satisfied by the many cracks he heard with each hit. Looking back on it later, he doesn't know how he stopped himself from beating the man to death, but he did. He halted his fist and asked the one question burning at his mind.

"Why have you done this?" He growled through clenched teeth, his voice trembling with rage.

Even through the pain and the rivers of blood flowing down his face, the man grinned an almost toothless smile.

"Sarissa works to hurt you even in death, _Shadeslayer._" He slurred, black eyes glaring pitilessly into his counterpart's.

Eragon's only answer was to wordlessly snap the man's neck like a twig.

Disgusted, he shoved the bloody carcass away from him and rose to his feet. He was back to his cousin's body within seconds, pushing the grim-faced Elves surrounding it out of the way. When he was finally through, he saw Blodhgarm kneeling by a very-alive Roran, desperately trying to heal him. Relief shot through Eragon's body as he beheld the rapidly breathing sight of his cousin, but it was quickly squashed as he noticed the very un-healable gaping wound in the man's chest.

Shaking uncontrollably, Eragon shooed Blodhgarm from his path and immediately kneeled at Roran's side.

"Roran-Roran!" He choked, tears already streaming down his face.

In between coughing fits of blood, the dying man turned to his cousin. Eragon's stomach twisted when their eyes finally met. Roran gave a slight smile despite the circumstances.

"Eragon, it's okay, really. It's just a little scratch. I'll be fine-" he said reassuringly, but couldn't finish his sentence. Breathing out his last breath, the light dimmed in his eyes and his heart stopped, not fine at all.

Eragon's world completely shattered.

"Roran…" He whispered, eyes wide and shining with tears. "Roran! No, Roran, please no, come back!" He sobbed, utterly losing control. The tears were really coming fast now, pooling together on his dead cousin's body.

"You can't be dead..You can't be dead..You can't be!" He cried out, repeating the phrase over and over again, not wanting to believe its truth.

The gut-wrenching sobs racking his body, he bowed down over Roran's chest and let his sorrow sweep him away.

After a time, he felt a light touch on his shoulder, and he whipped his head up to see Yaela's sympathetic face above his. Sadness reigned in her eyes as she held out the arrow that killed his cousin.

Eragon's bottom lip trembled as he looked upon the horrid instrument, and he blinked his tears away to get a good look at it. The bloody metal point at the end of the long shaft seemed to mock him, bringing forth the sneering look Roran's killer had made right to the forefront of the rider's mind.

Suddenly, he sprang up from his position on the ground, his sorrow turning to a terrible rage bordering on madness. He roughly ripped the arrow from Yaela's hands.

"The Empire will burn. THEY WILL ALL BURN!" He yelled, but his voice shook uncontrollably.

Winding his arm back viciously fast, he hurled the arrow back at the now dead man who killed Roran, unconsciously setting it on fire with his thoughts. The depth of his fury made his precision perfect, and the missile launched itself directly into the prone man's body, setting it on fire.

"They will all burn." He repeated to himself, and then the tears returned, sending him to his knees.

"Roran…" He gasped in a dejected, small voice. Saphira, who Eragon had barely even noticed the presence of in their small group around his cousin's body, bowed her head over Eragon and keened softly.

_He's dead. He's dead. _He repeated to himself while the pain of his words rippled through him. _And it's my fault. All my fault. _Blinking through his tears, he opened his eyes to look at his cousin once more.

Roran lay pitifully small on the cold ground, his striking pale skin very white against the crimson of his blood pooling around him. Grime from the previous battle, as well as hundreds of small injuries that Eragon had not bothered healing littered his body. His glassy eyes stared unseeingly into the night sky above him and Eragon shuddered, reaching a shaking hand to close the lids.

"I'm so sorry." He whispered quietly through the rivulets of liquid overflowing from his eyelids. "So sorry."

And with his heart-breaking sobs wrenching through the air of the battlefield, Eragon forgot his surroundings and let his grief consume him, mourning the man who would never live to see the day he became a father.


End file.
